Moving Forward, Going Backwards
by Ms. Audrey G
Summary: A series of drabbles featuring the past and future Saints and Specters.
1. Daughter

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas belongs to Shiori Teshirogi and Masami Kurumada, who also owns the original Saint Seiya.

**Character(s): **Hyoga and OC

**Rated:** K

* * *

**Daughter**

The moment to prove to his wife how capable he was to take care of their daughter has shifted into an outcome that he did not think possible. The entire house was left in a mess: clothes were sprawled on the floor, dolls scattered the living room area, and food splattered the kitchen. Hyoga sighed and rubbed the back of his head, envisioning his wife's angry face at the state the house was in. He had no time to waste and began cleaning the house.

He wandered through the hallway, heading toward the stairs. He picked up his pace, as he descended down the steps and started picking up each disregarded garment his daughter left behind. He should really learn to say no when it came to request for help to collect the dirty laundry with his three-year-old daughter. The mere thought of refusing her help, though, made him cringe at the thought, her piercing cry being a remembrance in his mind.

Reaching the last step, he pattered through the living room, avoiding the mess, and headed straight into the laundry room. A load was already inside the washer, leaving him to place the dirty clothes in the hamper. The alarm of the dryer went off, alerting him that it was done. He opened the dryer, reaching in for the clothes before a shrill cry caused him to leave it in its place.

He ran out of the room, carefully avoiding her dolls left on the living room floor. Heading up the steps, he entered his daughter's room, his disheveled hair covering his wild, blue eyes.

"What is it?" he demanded, a pitch of fear latched in his voice.

"Play with me!" his three-year-old demanded, putting on a pout and stomping her feet to emphasize her point.

"Sweetheart, daddy is really busy picking up the mess we've made," he reasoned, his hand still placed on the knob.

Her lip trembled as tears were ready to pour. She sniffled and began to sob.

"No, no, don't cry," he soothed, entering her room and settling on his knees.

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Daddy doesn't want to play with me."

"Yes, I do. See," he grabbed a doll, "I want to play."

"But you said you didn't want to." She sniffed.

"No, it's not that." He rubbed her cheek. "Daddy needs to clean the house before mommy comes. Do you want to help daddy?" The nod of her head brought a smile to his lips. "Alright then, let's hurry."

She squealed in delight and stood by the door. "Come on, daddy," she hurriedly stomped her feet, "let's go and clean up!" She threw her hands in the air and smiled.

Hyoga smiled and picked up his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they headed toward the stairs, confident that they will manage to clean the house before his wife arrived.


	2. Amor

**Character(s):** Shun and June

**Rating:** K

**Notes: **The innocent love of Shun and June.

* * *

**Amor**

He questioned at times what made her choose him out of the rest. The defenseless, crybaby that required the need of his brother is what she picked. But she didn't view him that way, but more of a strong individual upholding the peace in Athena's name.

June was **perfect** in every way imaginable in Shun's mind. The love he had for her will continue to grow that he assured.

Silently reading, _Romeo and Juliet_, his eyes peeled away from the page to stare at the enchanted woman brushing her blond hair. She caught his eyes in the reflection, giving a small smile before she settled the brush down. Rising from her seat, she made her way towards her husband, who by now placed the book on the counter.

Her body settled closed to his, resting a hand on his chest, while he brought her closer to his form. Their eyes clashed with one another, falling into the pit of love. And, slowly, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips.

Even after all these years, June still had the effect to make his world go haywire.


	3. The Thirteen Gold Saint

**Character(s): **Milo, Camus, and mentions of Mu and Shaka.

**Rating: **K+

**Notes: **A debate that occurred over the Internet.

* * *

**The Thirteen Gold Saint**

A daily weekly of _The_ _Horoscopes_ lay sprawled on Milo's bed. Wrinkling the sheets with his constant movements, the Scorpio sat confused on what he had just read. It seemed he wasn't a Scorpion, but rather an Ophiuchus. Therefore, a thirteen Gold Saint was supposed to be ranked with them. Not something he would like to hear, but given that Saga had a twin brother with no cloth gave him a motive to believe that perhaps he could fill the missing thirteen spot.

He pondered a bit on the assumption before he grabbed the magazine and searched for the wisest and most reasonable man he could think of . . .

Camus.

Reaching the domains of the Aquarius temple, he entered the premises with ease until he found the Aquarius sipping tea along with the Virgo and the Ram.

"Camus," he beckoned, reaching him in stride steps. "Did you know that there is a thirteen Zodiac sign?"

The Aquarius stopped from bringing the tea to his lips. He placed his teacup on the dark table and glared at the magazine that Milo was thrashing around – the one he read not too long ago, informing that he was not an Aquarius, but a Pisces. The thought alone brought his brows to meet, not liking the idea of being surrounded by deadly roses. Plus, the Pisces would be more than likely to teach him the way of being like him, the idea laughable and horrifying to ponder. Besides, he did not train to be the Pisces, but the Aquarius, and he was not willing to change it, even if a magazine says it.

"What brings you to say that, Milo?" Mu asked, while churning his tea with a spoon.

"It says so in this magazine," he pointed. "That means, Camus, you are not an Aquarius but a -"

"Finish that sentence and I will kill you."


	4. Father Figure

**Character(s): **Manigoldo and Pope Sage

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Manigoldo's and Pope Sage's relationship is more of a father and son relationship in my eyes.

* * *

**Father Figure**

Manigoldo is lucky that Sage found him when he did; otherwise, the boy would have lived the life of robber and, perhaps, murderer in order to survive. Though, raising the boy proved to be rather a difficult situation, one that Sage had at times questioned his conduct of raising him. But, it was a mission that Sage could not afford to fail. It was a mission that required tolerance and discipline, traits that he had.

Though, he wished he was more prepared for the outcome.

At nine-years-old, Manigoldo had destroyed property that wasn't his, but belonged to a man in the village. The man thought nothing of it, but gave a scolding to the boy, yet Sage could not restrain himself from giving him another lecture, one that made him lose his voice for two days.

When the boy turned eleven, he understood the behavior of how a mother would feel when she panics for the safety of her son. Manigoldo had engaged in a fight against Kardia no less. The boy had begun the teasing, but Kardia was the one who finished the fight. Sage was thankful when Aspros and Sisyphus separated them from doing any further damage.

Though the years went by and the boy turned thirteen, Sage had finally accomplished of teaching the boy the way of fighting as a Saint. He smiled and watched the future Cancer reduce himself on one knee, as he alerted the world of the new Gold Saint.

He had tried to maintain the relationship that he had with Manigoldo by seeing him each day, but he had other matters to attend to, such as Manigoldo had missions to complete. Though on his sixteen birthday, Sage had decided to pay a visit to the Cancer Temple, heading toward Manigoldo's corridors. The rap of his knuckles met the door, but he heard nothing, no voice to tell him to enter. Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped inside, finding his pupil in the middle of two naked women. His eyes widened at the sight, relieved to find the sheet covering his middle section, but angry to find him whoring around with women that deserved more respect than given.

When his pupil finally opened his eyes, he simply smiled and turned around, hugging the pillow as his head landed on it.

"Care to join, old man?"

That smart remark was enough to send him to the underworld. But since that event, he would have to tell Manigoldo when he would arrive to his temple in order to avoid another scene that did not need to be seen.

Years went by and Manigoldo was eighteen, the year he failed to protect a family. The thought consumed him each day, until he eventually let it be a reminder of what would occur if he failed in the future.

Sage smiled and let the memories come to a close. After all these years, he never imagined Manigoldo reaching the age of twenty-three on this very day. Footsteps crept behind him that he did not need to turn to know who approached. The arms of his pupil wrapped around his neck, feeling a peck on top of his head.

"For an old geezer, you did well on being a father." Manigoldo embraced him once more before he withdrew himself and turned on his heel.

"See ya later, old man."

Sage stood from his seat, grabbing his headpiece and placed it on his head.

"See ya later, son."

Mission accomplished.


	5. Tea Party

**Disclaimer:** Saint Seiya belongs not to me, of course.

**Character(s): **Hyoga, Seiya, Shun, and OC

**Rated: **K

* * *

**Tea Party**

His wife was out with some friends, leaving him to care for their four-year-old daughter. He enjoyed the moments he spent with his daughter, even if it meant to partake in the most embarrassing things. Good thing, he wasn't alone.

He sighed and looked at his friends, wryly smiling at them.

"Would you like some more tea, Daddy?" His bundle of joy asked sweetly, raising the pink kettle to pour imaginary tea in his teacup.

"Why, certainly," he responded. She poured him a cup and turned her head to the next guest.

"Would you like some more tea, Uncle Shun?" She smiled toothily at him as Shun nodded his head and accepted the freshly batch of illusionary tea.

She turned to the next guest, sitting across from her.

"Would you like some more tea, Uncle Seiya?"

"About time," he rudely chirped, only to receive a slap on the back of his head by Hyoga.


	6. Worth

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me.

**Character(s):** Shun and June

**Rating**: K

* * *

**Worth**

Love is a wonderful thing that transpires between two people. They live together for an eternity, facing each obstacle headstrong and being a pillar for one another. Of course, there are marriages that fail, but June wasn't thinking about those. She was thinking about the ones that manage to live through old age and still walk hand-in-hand down the beach, love still evident in their eyes. No one can say a relationship is an easy straight line to take when in fact it is an unexpected road that one must thrive and continue on.

Will Shun and she be the same, married until the end, she mused. Will they walk down the beach until their old and wrinkly? And, if she came to the point where she lost her memories, will he be the one to tale their love for each other?

"June." She took her eyes away from the scenery, her swinger hat blocking the sun from her view. Her sunshine dressed wrinkled with her movement as Shun cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing the corners of her lips.

And, without a word, he swooned in for a kiss.

In that moment, she realized that he was so worth getting old with.


	7. Guardians

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me.

**Character**(**s**): Sasha and Tenma

**Rating**: K+

**Notes**: I see Sasha and Tenma in a sibling way more than a lover's way, but let's see differently.

* * *

**Guardians**

"Would you like to go for a stroll?" It was a simple question, one that required a "yes" or a "no". Instead, she found herself blabbering on and on about duties and responsibilities, nothing to do with the question he asked. Her hands went to her face, covering her redden cheeks. She was embarrassed of her rant that she simply could not meet his eyes.

He laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It is just a stroll. Do not worry. We will be back by sunset," he assured.

She sighed in relief. A hand was brought toward her chest.

"For a second, I thought we were going on a date."

He smiled, his wine eyes shining.

"Maybe we are." He took a step forward. "Perhaps, I want to court you." He leaned forward, his nose pressing against hers.

She chuckled and pushed him away.

"Tenma, don't be silly."

Without further hesitation, he pressed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes went wide when he pulled away, catching a grin on his face.

"So, shall we?" He offered his arm, waiting for her daze to pass. Slowly nodding her head, she slithered her hand onto his bicep, as he led the way. All the meanwhile, they failed to notice a pair of eyes watching the whole ordeal.

I

Their stroll started at the peak of the eastern forest, located near Rodorio Village. Tenma was rather happy to have his beloved friend – or, should he say, future girlfriend – by his side. He kept glancing towards her face, noticing her lips moving, yet failing to hear what she was saying.

It was something about her day and how it was going well. Something like that.

He blushed when she leaned her head on his shoulder and gave a view of her cleavage. By the gods, when did those appear?

"Tenma, what do you think?"

"Huh?" He tore his gaze away, staring at her frowning face before she peeled her hand off his upper-arm.

"You weren't listening," she accused.

He sheepishly rubbed his head, while blabbering out excuses. Trying to reassure her that he wouldn't do it again, he attempted to give her a hug. What a mistake that was. Sure, he had Sasha in his arms, but not in a way he would have wanted it. Instead, he was protecting her from a falling tree that so happened to have an incision in the middle of the trunk.

He landed on his feet and placed Sasha back on the ground. He made sure Sasha to see if she was alright before he examined the area around him.

Odd.

He could have sworn he heard someone shout, "Excalibur," from nearby.

II

Everywhere he went, he felt a pair of eyes following his every step. Sasha kept reassuring him that it was just his imagination. But, still, something didn't feel right.

"It's a little cold, don't you think?" Sasha said, shivering to the sudden chill in the air. It was the middle of summer, so why was it suddenly cold? He ignored the sudden change and placed his attention onto his goddess.

"I'll warm you up," he offered, drawing near to her shivering body. But, as he took another step, he tripped on a sudden rock, falling flat on his face.

"Tenma, are you okay?" Sasha helped him up on his knees, rubbing the dirt off his face. He nodded his head, reassuring her that he was fine.

"Odd. I didn't see that hole before in that tree," she pointed out.

Following her gaze, he stared at the tree by his side, seeing a small hole in the trunk.

III

If he could describe his date in one word, it would be disaster.

After the mysterious hole in the trunk, he was met with a hidden wall that caused him to have a nosebleed. He then felled in a crater, a trail of curses slipped through his lips during his fall. After, he sat on a rose thorn, which by the gods, hurt to take out. And, soon after, a second tree managed to fall, but this time on him!

Could this day get any worse?

He stumbled his way up the steps, as the first temple came to view. Sasha smiled and twirled to face Tenma, her dress flowing to her twirl. Placing her hands behind her, she sweetly smiled and looked to the floor.

"Thank you. Even if it went bad, I still enjoyed being with you," she said, her gaze meeting with his.

He smiled and approached her. He leaned in for her lips. He felt her rapid pulse when his hand was pressed against a side of her neck. Their lips were about to touch when he stopped at an incoming sound. It was faint, but he heard the object come, causing him to duck the incoming arrow that swoon passed his head.

So much for a day, he mused.

'Damn those Gold Saints,' he inwardly fumed.


	8. Explanations

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me.

**Rating**: K

**Character**(**s**): Camus and Milo

**Warning**: None

**Notes**: An answer to Axya's question. Sorry it took so long.

**Continuation** **to**: _The Thirteen Gold Saint

* * *

_

Explanations

"What troubles you about it?"

The question came out of the blue. He wasn't expecting Milo to speak of it, yet he wasn't mad about it either. A civil explanation should ease his mind.

"How would you feel wearing another man's cloth and practically need to learn of the acquired cloth's powers?" He glanced up from his novel, taking in Milo's thoughtful gaze.

"Pretty mad, actually," Milo voiced, rubbing the back of his head.

"Then, there is your answer." Camus lowered his eyes, resuming his spot at the end of the page.

"But, being a Pisces isn't bad. Besides, Aphrodite abuses the Pisces's name, something I know you wouldn't do," the Scorpion reasoned.

Camus sighed and lowered his novel down on his lap. Taking off his reading glasses, he gave a Milo a cold glare.

"I am an Aquarius. I live in the Aquarius temple."

"Well, you can live in the Pisces temple and still wear the Aquarius Cloth."

"Oh," the Aquarius cocked his head, "and where would you live?"

Milo opened his mouth to give a response, yet quickly shut it.

"That's what I thought."


	9. Jump

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me.

**Rating**: K+

**Character**(**s**): Yato and Regulus

**Notes**: If I remembered correctly, Yato once mentioned of how he used to train with Regulus. Requests are welcomed!

* * *

**Jump**

Another day of training, another day of having to bear with Regulus's energetic personality, he pondered. Yato sighed and trudged his way up the steep hill, while hearing his comrade's chatter fill the quiet area. He picked up his heavy feet and heaved along the way. Taking a glance towards his comrade, he began to question Regulus's rested state, not being able to find a single ounce of sweat on him.

Yato continued on, refusing to let Regulus get the better of him. He began to tune Regulus out as he rambled on and on about their mentor, Sisyphus.

"I want to be like him in a way, yet more like my father. Hey!" An expression of excitement covered the young child's face. "Wouldn't it be grand if I can be both?"

"Sure," Yato drawled, rolling his eyes when Regulus grinned. They pressed on until they reached the first cliff. Yato mentally jumped in glee when he was about to rest, but Regulus wished to move on. He scowled and stared at the cliff in front of him before a devious plan formed in his mind.

"Hey, Regulus?"

"Yes, Yato?" Regulus stopped and stared at his smiling friend.

"They say if you jump off a cliff and make a wish, it will come true," Yato exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air to emphasize his point.

"Oh." Regulus broke into a grin and marched his way towards his companion where he proceeded to slap his friend on the back. "So, why don't you try it?"

Yato went perplexed before he stammered, "Eh, well, you see . . ."

"Don't be shy. Here, I'll help you."

"Wait," he protested as he was being dragged towards the peak. But before he could form a plea, he was being thrown down the cliff.

xx

Regulus whistled down the hill as curses were heard nearby. Glancing up, he watched Yato dangle from a tree, yelling to bring him down. And with a mischievous grin, he merely walked away, hands in his pockets, while whistling a tune.


	10. Paper Heart

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya Lost Canvas does not belong to me.

**Character(s):** Rhadamanthys

**Rating**: T

**Warning**: Gruesome way to be creative.

**Notes**: Playing with my writing a bit. This one of Jenny DeVic's challenges. Do not worry; I have not forgotten the other challenges. College has started leaving me busy. I wanted to post this on Valentine's Day, but I wasn't finished with the idea.

Next, Nano*Mecka's challenge.

* * *

Paper Heart

The punch of the Leo's fist left a gap to where his heart used to be. No longer could he feel the thumps or beats rhythm in his chest but an empty solitary silence took place, heavy with blood dripping down his chest. It was gruesome, really; so many times he had avoided death, and now, he was left standing, having to support his body with his cosmos a tad further.

Heavy pants swallowed the area with his every step. Clank after clank, he felt his body about to surrender to death, yet he pushed onward, wanting to get to Alone as soon as possible, for Pandora's sake and in Lord Hades's name. He almost smiled at the thought as he pressed his hand on his hollow chest, crimson tainting his calloused fingers.

But, before he headed up to meet Alone, there was one more thing to do. He let out a painful breath, his face filled with relief when he approached the corridors of Alone's chambers. His eyes trailed to his left, finding a long staircase to where Pandora laid.

He still had time to complete his small task.

Within Alone's room, he withdrew a piece of paper. The fire danced when he brought a plume pen near, the dripping of blank ink falling onto the table. His armor was soon taken off as he brought the paper and ink to his chest. The soils of his flesh started to burn with the appliance of the ink, stapling the paper to where his empty heart laid.

His breath was caught between his lips and his lungs; the pain brought his knees to shake, like the fleeting memory of Regulus's fist. But soon the task was done, and he was left with a piece of paper standing in the place where his heart used to be.

His hands came together, dragging itself out of the bloody mess he (and Regulus) had created. And, standing between the dancing fire and oval mirror, Rhadamanthys smiled at the bloody heart that took shape on the piece of paper.


	11. Only Human

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me.

**Character(s):** Aioros, Saga, and Shura

**Rating**: K

**Notes**: Nano*Mecka's challenge. I wanted to post this earlier, but I got caught up in college and homework.

* * *

Only Human

There was a time where things used to be perfect, if fighting for one's life can be underline as perfect. Yet, through the bloodshed and the deaths, Aioros still managed to cherish the moments he had with two of his close friends. However, with a snap of his fingers, all of that deteriorated when Saga lost control to his selfish ambitions.

"It seems life hasn't been very good to us," he whispered to the night, the cool air rustling his hair as a response to his outspoken statement.

Being reborn had its advantages, such as the kiss of the sun on his fair skin or the feeling of the sand between the threads of his toes. The flowers grew to their rightful beauty and the air brushed his hair each day, until a leave broke from the branches of its home. Being reborn was an entitlement of value, being able to breathe and see the beauty of the world. Yet, the only problem that stood between living a full, happy life was to overcome the tense gap that grew between him and his two friends.

A sigh felled from his lips, letting the cool air take it in a matter of seconds. He beheld the possibilities that ranged for him, whether to divergent from the problem or face it and move on. The latter seemed to be promising, but were either one ready to speak of the past?

His left hand rose to settle on his forehead as he pondered more on what he wanted to do. A part of him ascended to a boiling point of rage, yet his other half hurled the hatred into silence. One thing for sure: it was inevitable to avoid them when he needed to face them during missions or have an audience with the Goddess or the Pope.

His hand lowered to his eyes, covering them from the audience of stars ascended above him. Pondering to himself, he drilled out the sounds around him, unaware of approaching footsteps creeping behind.

A presence stood behind him, enrapt in their pondering of whether to alarm him or greet him. And whether or not Aioros finally was aware, it was hard to notice on his concentrated expression.

"The stars look beautiful tonight," a deep voice ranged as Aioros removed his hand from his face, turning to meet the inevitable encounter.

The shins below his knees were the first thing that met his blue eyes until he gazed up and stared into the man who order his death long ago. His pale complexion sparkled under the night sky, his navy hair billowing to the chords of the wind. And, by his side, stood the man who executed the deed, silently gazing into the distance.

Both were casually dressed for the occasion. Perhaps, they were headed into town for a night of fun. Yet, his mind told him otherwise.

His shoes tapped against the floor when he stood before it rustled into silence. He had an overdose of nerves and adrenaline coursing through his veins that any minute he felt he would die out of exasperation.

"Care to search for the constellations?" Shura broke the silence, his voice as languorous as the appearance he displayed tonight.

"Perhaps, you should head to bed," Aioros suggested, the first words he had said to them since the day he was reborn.

Shura casually smiled, pushing through the tired state that he was in and shook his short mane. He took a step and sat on the first step. He rubbed his worn out hands, feeling the calluses between each passing palm. His hands came together in a complete stop as he looked up and waited for his comrades to settle by his side.

And, as such, Saga took his place on the stairs, letting his hands fall into the pockets of his military jacket. He let out a breath and proceeded to look back, waiting for the final – and most important – member to join them.

Aioros swallowed his fury and let it die when peace filled his body. Taking a seat between the two, he settled his eyes towards the sky, remembering that they were only humans that make mistakes – even if the mistake was taking his life. But none of that matter, he was given a second chance to live and forgive. And that is what he did.


	12. Two Leo's

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs to their rightful owners.

**Character(s)**: Shun and Ikki

**Rating**: K

**Notes**: One of Jenny DeVic's challenges. Since the new thirteen sign was added in the constellation that makes Shun and Ikki both Leos, so they say.

* * *

**Two Leo's**

"It's hard to imagine that we are both Leos now," stated Shun, his feet dangling in the air when he sat on the swing, his hands grasped around the metal chains. He picked up his feet and went forward before folding them back to gain more speed. The more he went back and forth, the higher he went.

"I don't care," Ikki voiced, his converse kicking the dirt as he sat on a swing next to Shun's. Dust dirtied his black shoes with each kick he gave to the ground that he ignored the mar and resumed his action, thinking little of it.

"Brother," he curled his legs, "would you care," his hair went back as the swing went forward, "if I let you gain the Leo's cloth?"

Ikki frowned at the idea, letting his eyes fall on his younger brother.

"Why would you ask such a thing?"

Shun kicked the ground with his boots, trying to slow down his speed. With each attempt, he eventually came to a stop. His hair felled over his shoulders as he gazed down to his dusty boots, his hands loosely slipping from the chains.

"Well, if it came to a point where one of us must choose to be the next Gold Saint, I would choose you," he clarified, placing his eyes on his brother, who impassively stared back.

Ikki pondered on the idea, picturing himself with the Leo's cloth. The idea was intriguing, but not enough to spark his interest. And the more he pictured himself wearing it, the more he became unsatisfied with the idea. He was better off being a Bronze than a Gold Saint. And if it made Shun stronger, he would gladly let him have it.

He faintly smiled and cast his attention up ahead. The jungle gym caught his attention.

"You will wear it," he replied, placing both hands on the chains and kicking his feet in the air.

"But, brother, I want you to have it!" Shun pushed, his eyes following the rise and fall of his legs.

"You would have it," he kicked his legs forward, "end of discussion," he finished, ending the conversation and whatever Shun was prepared to say.

Shun lightly smiled and gripped the chains. He wasn't prepared to give up so easily. He would let his brother have the Leo's cloth, one way or another.

"Whatever you say, brother." He kicked his feet in the air and curled them back. He continued back and forth, until the wind kissed his face and his eyes gazed up to the sky.


	13. Forgive

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me.

**Character(s):** Aphrodite, Shun, Albiore

**Rating**: T

**Notes**: The last of Jenny DeVic's challenges.

* * *

Forgive

The weather was grim, making the outer layer of his flesh soak with sweat. It dripped down his temple, hitting the tip of his nose. It was all over his body - on his neck, face, stomach, and beneath the soils of his feet. The wet substance was harshly received by a gust of dust flying in the air, whipping his hair cruelly to a side.

Aphrodite scowled, longing for the cool weather back home and the soothing waters of his shower. The showerhead would heal his marred skin, taking each vile thing that leeched on him and tossed it down the drain. It would rinse his body clean, something he clearly wished to happen instantly.

A remote sigh left his lips, pondering of his home in Greece. He cursed for seeking forgiveness from Shun, wishing that he never committed such felony. But because of his mouth, he now passively wandered through Andromeda's Island, seeking for the man Shun required for him to apologize to.

The look on his face became distant, his feet automatically following the trail before him, as in the depths of his mind he pondered on the scene that brought him here.

"_I owe you an apology," he began, his long, tone legs coming to a stop. _

_Shun raised his brows, a perplex expression covering his features. He stopped his advances towards the Pope's temple, letting his attention fall on the Pisces._

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_I owe you an apology," he repeated, turning his gaze away from his. He put an act of indifference, but he couldn't force his heart to stop beating out of control. The stillness of his form became evident for Shun that he barely noticed him approached._

_A hand was placed on his shoulder, forcing him to gaze into the eyes of the young warrior. The edges of his lips curved into a smile, easing the profuse rhythm of his heart by a degree. _

"_In order to forgive, one must be willing to do the same to the others that they have wronged in the past," Shun cryptically stated._

_A brow rose to his words. "What do you mean?" _

_Shun removed his hand, letting it fall by his side. His eyes tenderly glowed, placing them towards the open range of his temple, the bluish sky and yellow sun greeting him in return._

"_I will forgive you," a dashing smile was given to Shun, "but you must also apologize to my master and my comrades in Andromeda's Island." The smile quickly turned sour, a frown taking its place when he heard Shun's request. _

"_No."_

_The rise and fall of his shoulders came off as a shrug, placing his attention behind him. He paced towards the exit, his calming voice floating in the air, "Then, you are not sincere with your words."_

_Aphrodite growled, a hand covering his face. "Wait!" he shouted, stopping Shun from leaving. "I will do it," he vowed, his hands flattering from his eyes to catch the younger man's smiling, radiant face. _

"_Thank you."_

His feet slowed in its pace before it came to an automatic stop. The time to seek pardoned lay up ahead, the man he sought rested his bottom on the ground. His hair rose to the gust, a few tendrils slapping his lips. The moment he wished to avoid came.

"I see that you are busy so my arrival is of no importance," he said, turning his back and letting his hand rest on his hip.

A chuckle sprang from Albiore, the wisps of his hair glued to his forehead, perspiration running down his cheek. "A Gold Saint's arrival is always of importance."

Aphrodite stopped and turned. "But, surely, I can come another time, perhaps one that is suiting to your liking," he tried to persuade, easily believing that Albiore would buy into his lie to escape.

Another chuckle sprang, rising a little higher than the last. "I am no fool. Shun has told me of your arrival." He rose from his spot, his eyes opened and rested on the man before him.

"How the hell!" There were no possibilities that Shun can travel faster than he, unless Mu had anything to do with this. The mere thought that he had help from another Gold Saint made him boil in rage. And the more he thought about it, the more his assumption became believable.

"That bastard!" He placed his attention onto Shun's master. "Well, then, I apologize for the heinous crime that I committed."

Albiore shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Apology not accepted."

Aphrodite was baffled upon his words. "I beg your pardon."

"You say you are sorry, but you act aloof, not a single ounce of guilt runs through your veins," he explained.

A sigh tore away his rude demeanor, a solid tribulation taking its heed. He didn't come to be called a liar. He needed to show his sincerity. "I seek for forgiveness, more than ever. My actions from before were vile and cruel, that I wish not to repeat myself. It will take time, but I am up for any challenges. But in order to change, I must start by asking forgiveness by the people that I harmed most."

Silence played its role, filling the gap between Albiore and him.

"Will you forgive me?" Aphrodite asked after he spared not a word.

Albiore uncrossed his arms, settling his eyes on the ocean. "It will take time."

The Pisces smiled. "I don't expect it to happen soon, but I feel better knowing you took my apology in consideration." He bowed and decided to leave. There was no point of being here. Hopefully, the ship hasn't left.

"Oh, where do you think you are going, Pisces?"

Clearly, Albiore needed his privacy, but he confused Aphrodite when he asked a ridiculous question.

"Home."

"I think not." He shook his blond hair. "You will be making dinner for my pupils and me."

"I will not!"

Albiore strode towards the Pisces, an impassive face was placed. "I did not ask, but demand that you do." He brushed past him. "Think of it as a way of owing me. You will go home when you are no longer required." He strode down the cliff, refusing to look behind the man who tightened his fists in rage.

"Son of a -" The words never finished as he bended over, spitting out the dirt that the wind carried.

"Ugh! I hate this place!"


	14. Bad Omen

**Disclaimer**: Saint Seiya belongs not to me . . . Why do I keep doing this?

**Character(s):** Pandora and Saori

**Rating**: K+

**Notes**: One of The Night Queen's requests.

* * *

Bad Omen

Saori ran across the lawn, her hands spreading out like the wings of an eagle. She made a zigzag towards the gate, pushing the iron bars to continue her visible chase. The gate creaked under her smooth palms, the sound echoing for a period of time, until it met with a deadly silence.

Her head twisted back, hoping Grandfather Kido did not catch her creeping out. A small voice told her that he would be angry with her choice of action, but the voice was not strong enough to overpower the bigger one that pushed her to continue and persuaded her that he will never know.

She looked to the sides, locking both hands on the bars. The adrenaline pumped in her veins, making a smile creep on her face. This would be a great opportunity for her to explore by herself, without having to be delayed by her grandfather's slow pace. It was her golden ticket and she is taking it.

She ran out, giggling with each step that grew farther away from home. Her brand, new dress ruffled to the accordance of her legs, swiping back her cropped, lilac hair as well. This would probably be the best experience of her life besides bullying the orphan boys. Yet, her moment of fun came to an end when her eyes landed on an older girl sitting on a tree stump, a ragged doll held in her hand.

Her feet slowly came to a halt as she shifted her body to a side and directed her full attention on the girl. She tilted her head and examined the gothic dress that she wore. White ruffles were sowed at the bottom of her black dress, hitting her knees. The top covered her chest, leaving her neck exposed, while the silk sleeves covered to her elbows.

The girl chuckled and turned her dark, violet eyes onto her, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear that lashed onto her face.

"Are you lost, little girl?" It was an absurd question when clearly she is young herself, perhaps a little older than Saori.

The lilac girl scowled. It made her angry the way she addressed her as a little girl. She was old enough to take care of herself and she is not going to let nobody tell her otherwise. She tightened her fists and marched her way towards her.

"I wouldn't be talking when clearly you are the one who appears lost."

The older girl chuckled. "I'm not lost, little girl. I'm merely observing a rabbit looking for trouble." She smiled and averted her attention to her doll, smoothing out her crimson, yarn hair. Black buttons gazed at her owner with a red sown grin that caused Saori to slightly tremble at the sight of it.

She quickly ignored it and tried to resume the topic. "Look, you -"

"Pandora," the older girl announced, receiving a perplex expression. "If I am going to associate myself with a feeble rabbit, the least I can do is give you my name."

"It is Saori, not rabbit," she fumed, tightening her fists.

Pandora chuckled. "Don't fool me as one who cares. I merely gave you my name for you to show me respect. Don't classify me with your kind, low-life."

The younger child seethed in her spot. How dare she put her, Saori Kido, down! Clearly, she is stupid to realize to not know who she is.

She huffed and crossed her arms, casting her head to a side. "Low-life? You must be confusing me with yourself. I bet you're a beggar living in the streets." She pointed a finger at her. "A person like you should perish for giving disrespect to Saori Kido!"

Pandora laughed and jumped off her seat. Her black shoes hit the ground as she whirled towards Miss Kido, her doll secured in her arms.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Her eyes widen to her words, the brush of her hair billowed with the wind.

The older one crept closer to the younger one; a wicked smile touched her lips.

"The wind is blowing harshly and the wolf's howl is heard in the distant, that is a bad omen, you know? It means death is around the corner." She pressed her doll tighter to her breast, her left arm securing it, while freeing the other. Using her right hand, she brushed a strand of Saori's hair between her forefinger and thumb.

"I wonder, which one of us shall see the god of death, you or me? Or, perhaps, someone else, presumably older, shall die soon."

"Who?" The whisper barely reached her ears.

"Go home, Saori," she pushed. "You wouldn't want your grandfather to die without your presence."

Her eyes widen to the sudden announcement. She shook her head, refusing to believe it. Each step back, she said no, hoping to hear Pandora say otherwise. It was just words; she doesn't have the power of death. But her mind refused to acknowledge that bit of information, leaving her to believe that what she said is true. And without another word, she ran towards home, Pandora's boastful laughter echoing behind her. She ran and ran, yet no matter how much she pumped her legs the dirt road kept getting longer.

A rock stood in her path, causing her to stumble and harshly meet the ground. Her arms scraped against it, a hiss seeping through her lips. Pandora's laughter continued to surround her, until it engulfed her and caused her to press her palms to her ears. She shook her head, tuning out her laugh – however, futile that may be. Eventually her shouts of no became louder than her laughter that she failed to realize a hand pressed against her shoulder.

"Miss Saori!" She continued to shout. "Miss Saori!" The hand shook her harder, making her to stop and open her eyes. She placed her hands on the dirt ground, looking back to gaze at her butler, Tatsumi.

"What are you doing beyond the gates?" He helped her up on her feet, brushing away the dirt that clung to her dress the best he could manage to do. "Your grandfather will punish me if he found out."

She didn't pay attention to his words, but escaped from his grasp to check on her grandfather. Tatsumi sighed and stood on his feet. He took a step before something caught his eye. A rag doll lay on the ground, its beady eyes and red sown grin caused a shiver down his spine. He couldn't recall Miss Kido possessing such evil thing, pondering if he should bother retrieving it.

A harsh wind slapped his face as a screech met his ears. He didn't have time to pick up the doll, leaving it on the ground. He dashed and slipped a couple times until he came into view of the door of where Saori's yell came from. Bursting inside, he is shocked to find her grandfather sprawled on the floor.

"He is not breathing!" she shrieked, attempting to awaken him.

The butler quickly grabbed the phone and called the doctor. Later that night, it was declared that Mitsumasa Kido is gravely ill. The reason became unclear to why when he appeared healthy, but, perhaps, the owner of the doll knew the cause.

She emerged from the shadows, approaching the doll she left behind and picked it up. She embraced it tight and turned her back towards the Kido's mansion, her feet leading her away.

A tune caught Saori's attention, turning her face towards the window. Pressing her hands against it, she watched the older girl fade away in a whisk of gust as a first drop of rain felled from the sky.


	15. First Impression

**Disclaimer: **Saint Seiya belongs to its creators.

**Character(s): **Deathmask, Shun, and Ikki

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **One of The Night Queen's Requests

* * *

**First Impression**

It became apparent that Deathmask did not know the name of the young lad that traveled with the Bronze boys. He knew the blond one was Hyoga, hearing countless times of how much Camus took pride in his student's progress – though he hardly show it; the obnoxious one was Seiya, Athena's number one savior; and the brooding one was Ikki, the boy who never shows up, is what Mu mentioned once to Shaka and Aldebaran. Then, there is the one he dare not speak to until he felt comfortable enough to engage in a conversation with: Shiryu, his killer. Thank the gods he was given a third chance to live in order to amend his wrongful ways. But back to the mysterious boy, he scratched his cheek and pondered if he should greet him or not.

It wouldn't hurt to try. Besides, he might even learn of his name.

It felt odd when he approached the boy. The way he held his stance made him think he was going to address a woman, gazing at his collection of masks. Though, what stood him out as a guy were his fit arms and tone legs.

"Hey, kid!" he hollered, stopping the boy from taking a step. His older brother, Ikki, ceased from proceeding, eyes intensely focusing on the Cancer Saint.

"Deathmask," the boy greeted. He had a feeling Seiya told the boy much about him.

The Cancer Saint rubbed the back of his neck. What to say became his main problem at the moment. Besides, why should he care of coming up with a topic and speaking to him? It matter little to him. But, then again, Athena did request for him to act civilly with his comrades, so might as well do it.

Perhaps, he should mention his fighting style or engage in a battle, but he didn't want to murder the kid or the kid murder him – he hardly doubt it. And, let's not forget his older brother.

He sighed and placed his hands on his hips.

"Quite a collection of masks, you have here," the boy stated, commencing the conversation.

Deathmask chuckled. "I like to bring a memento of the people I kill - making masks of their faces and posting them up on my wall, hence the name." He took pride in his work and grinned when he placed a hand near a mask. It was his most favorite out of all of his collection that he had it made in a mirror-mask. It shimmered near the contact of his master as the mirror provided a reflection of him and his two guests.

The little brother approached the mask, touching the tip of its pointed nose.

"Was this person pure evil?" he asked. The mere fact that a person, like Deathmask, waxed the faces of the dead for amusement was creepy, but he did not want to judge. Of course, he had heard rumors that the Cancer killed anyone, cruel or not, for pleasure, but they were just rumors. Well, he hoped so.

"Nah."

The boy gave him a puzzled look.

"She was a nice lady."

"Then, why is she here?"

"She was a bitch; Didn't give me a damn cookie. So, I killed her." He waved casually.

The young boy blinked twice at his response, not comprehending at first on what he had said. The good thing Ikki managed to drag him out of there as his voice, cold and stern, echoed, "Shun, let's go!"

Meanwhile, Deathmask let out a haughty laugh, enjoying the frighten expression Shun provided. What can he say? He was never good with first impressions, but at least he managed to get a name.


	16. Andromeda and The Wyvern

**Character(s): **Shun and Rhadamanthys

**Rating: **K

**Notes: **The Night Queen's third challenge.

* * *

Andromeda and the Wyvern

It is ridiculous to watch the Bronze try to gain recognition among the audience, and fight for something they clearly can't have. The prize is to win the Sagittarius Cloth when the cloth needed to choose its leader, not be auctioned in a bloody battle. He already knew the outcome, but watched intently at the boy he needed to observe. But it seemed he lost sight of him, searching into the crowd that hurried inside. If only he could blast them all way, and bring Hades's reign, but Pandora's explicit orders were to go undetected and watch the boy.

He pushed the rim of his glasses up with an index finger, watching the crowd closely. He only knew of the boy through pictures, hearing Pandora constantly speak of him as if he was Hades's vessel. He had no doubt in her words, but he questioned her authority to let him loose in the first place.

He staggered a bit when he felt a shoulder bumped into his. Fury took place in his eyes, but was briskly replaced with curiosity when he came across, for the first time, with the boy Pandora constantly showered affection towards too. A smirk curled on his lips, letting the glasses fall on the tip of his nose, the ray of the sun sparkling the glass lens.

"My apologies," the boy uttered, bowing his head before he went erect, his rose armor lovingly brightened his green locks.

"You are forgiven." He pushed his glasses back up, his golden eyes flashing with his silent mirth.

"Are you here for the battle?"

"Yes, I'm spectator among the crowd. Well, aren't we all?"

A brow rose to his statement, letting a smile let loose.

"Well, I hope you notice how trivial these battles are," he commented, hearing the roar of the crowd cheer in excitement. It seemed his battle is about to begin. "I have to go. It's good to meet you . . ."

"Adonis."

"Shun," he exchanged, nodding his head. He turned and walked towards the stage, fearing the outcome of the battle ahead.

Rhadamanthys smirked and retreated, taking notice of how pure he is. He is truly Hades's vessel, leaping in joy to know his Lord will awaken soon. Smiling, he decided he had enough of this trivial tournament, something he agreed with his future lord.


	17. Catch and Kill

**Character(s):** Aphrodite, Albiore, and Leda.

**Rating**: T

**Notes**: A little insight of Aphrodite's punishment.

* * *

**Catch and Kill**

He threw the mop to a side, letting the bucket slip from his hands, as the water splashed and poured onto the ground. If Albiore thought he would clean up the mess he intently created, then, clearly, he must be delusional, and be sent to a psychiatric ward. It was a fallible clause, but he clung to the reason and sought to tell Athena of his founding – when he got out of here, of course. For now, all he wanted to do is lie down and rest.

He untied his apron and threw it a side. Next, he grabbed the handkerchief and untied it from his head, letting his sky-blue locks cradle his face. Throwing it with the apron, he headed towards his bed, welcoming the sheets with open arms and snuggling his face against the pillow. In a couple of minutes, he was out and his dreams provided the escape he so desired. However, his dreams came to an abrupt end when he heard a crash and sprang into action, summoning a red rose in his hand.

"I suppose, your intention was for me to slip and crack my skull, was it not?" summarized Albiore, sitting on the ground, the water soaking through the fabric of his leggings. With one hand, he pushed the bucket off his head and revealed his stern eyes. Aphrodite smiled and let his rose disappear.

"If it was, I should have come up with a better tactic," replied Aphrodite, letting his bottom fall onto the bed.

"Or, it can show how lazy you are," Albiore added, pushing himself off the ground as the bucket was placed neatly to a side. His shoes protruded a squishy sound with each step he took when he finally halted and stood by the edge of the Pisces's bed.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are you not going to clean it up?"

He sighed and rested on his back, his head hitting the pillows. With closed eyes, he imagined himself alone without a glare staring at his impeccable face and a tapping foot being heard against the ground. For a minute, he actually thought he was alone, letting his mind drift into pleasant dreams, until the man decided to play cheeky and splash cold water on his form.

He snapped his eyes open and let out a girly shrill. Staring at culprit, he was mildly surprised to see Leda with a bucket, a grin on his features.

"I'm going to kill you!" he threatened, attempting to rise from his bed, but Albiore held him down with one hand and let the teenager flee. A red rose appeared in his hand as he let the man restrain him for a bit. Letting his arm go loose, he took the opportunity to push the man and dash after the boy, who was talking with Spica near his hut.

"You are dead!" he promised, throwing the red rose towards the boy, who fortunately dodged and let it penetrate on the wooden door. Scrambling to get on his legs, his fingers were getting burned by the hot ground, mildly ignoring the pain and pressing onward. He ran, skid, duck, and got up from the ground, avoiding each rose that came after him. When he grew weary, he glanced behind and saw the evil grin he possessed.

"That is enough," his master interceded, standing in the way between his pupil and the deadly rose aimed at his chest.

"Stand aside and let the brat feel my wrath," fumed the Pisces.

"Or else what?" retaliated Cepheus. "Would you so daringly throw the rose at me again?"

He glared and stared at the boy behind, watching him gaze back. A little voice in his head gave him several reasons why he shouldn't take the initiative, and to stay in the path of making amends - not only would it be good for him, but to everyone he hurt. Slowly, he let the voice get stronger as he lowered his rose and let it disappear.

"Besides," continued Albiore, "it is just water."

"Tch. Just water?" he uttered, taking a step. "Because of him, my locks are now sizzling under the glaring sun. Do you not know how hard it is to manage to keep my hair this perfect? It is quite difficult, actually." He paused. "My fingers are dirty, my feet ache, and I smell like wet dog, an unpleasing odor to sleep with." He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. "When will this punishment end so I can go home to my comfy bed?"

He waited for a response, shielding his eyes away from the sun. For awhile, he heard nothing but the harsh wind slapping dirt onto his body and creeping into his training shoes. Faintly, footsteps approached, feeling a hand pressed against his shoulder. He looked up and caught an amused expression on Albiore's face.

"Do tell what is so amusing that you carry a silly grin on your face?"

He slapped his shoulder and let out a laugh, while Aphrodite cringed to the force of his hand pounding on his back. And giving a final pat, he left into his hut, leaving the Pisces alone with his pupil.

"Ass," he muttered, taking a look at his dirty nails. When he returns to the Sanctuary, he would have to get a manicure. God knows what lies underneath his nails. A chuckle emitted, catching his attention. He raised a fine brow and glared at the boy ahead of him.

"It is hard to imagine that you are a Gold Saint when your biggest fear is losing your flawless looks."

Aphrodite chuckled, allowing the boy to laugh alongside with him.

"It is hard to imagine that you are a Bronze Saint when your biggest fear is getting killed," he mocked, laughing a bit.

Leda stopped from laughing, his eyes narrowing to his words. "What is that suppose to mean, huh?"

"It means that if you don't start running, I will kill you where you stand," spat the Pisces, revealing a rose at the tip of his hand.

"Shit," he cursed and ran, dodging each rose – which to his knowledge, he did not know that the Pisces was deliberating missing. With a yell, he called for his master as Albiore appeared and shook his head at the scene.


	18. The Maiden and her Adonis

**Character(s): **Agatha, Albafica, and …?

**Rating**: K+

**Notes**: I intend to use Agatha, instead of Agasha. I watched the Anime and I heard Agatha, so I'm sticking to it.

* * *

**The Maiden and Her Adonis**

Agatha crept near the window, watching the children pass by her small, wooden view towards the main event near the bell tower. She sighed and let her chin rest on her palm, wishing she could join the festivity. There would be music, clapping, dancing, and, most of all, the Saints of Athena would be present to celebrate another year of Pope Sage's birthday. She enjoyed the festivity, but she was confined in her stone house, only to hear the music from afar.

She let out another sigh, hoping her punishment would pass. It wasn't her fault that she got caught trying to sneak inside the Sanctuary. Then, again, her father had told her that the Pisces Saint, Albafica, is unreachable, and is not interested in what she had to say, let alone face her presence. She denied it at first, thinking that she could have an opportunity to thank him for lending her the cape, but alas the guards caught her before she even reached the first temple.

Her fingers strummed on the windowsill, becoming music to her ears. She leaned away from the window, looking at the dining table that needed to be wiped down with the cloth resting by her side. She sighed a third time, and proceeded to do her chores, wiping the table clean and sweeping the floor. Thirty minutes had passed when her father opened the door, hearing the people cheer and the jolly music engulf her home with its harmony until the door shut.

"Do not worry, papa, I will start cleaning the bedrooms soon," she informed, placing the broom near the door as she grabbed the cloth and proceeded to wipe the light dust off the plants. Her father shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder, gaining her immediate attention.

"Agatha, go to the celebration," her father smiled, basking his eyes with his sincerity. She hesitated at first before a huge smile took place on her face. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around him, thanking him for giving her this moment to enjoy. But as she took a step towards the door, her father warned her that her punishment will continue tomorrow. She nodded her head and gave her word that she would do it. And quickly as she spoke, she hurriedly ran down the road.

She twisted to a right before she turned sharply to the left. The music kept getting louder, along with the cheering, that her heart leapt in joy at how near the event is. She quickly took another left before she came crashing into the crowd, and watched the confetti fly in the air when the Saints arrived with the Grand Pope. A smile crept on her face, glad that she didn't miss their grand entrance. Brushing pass a few citizens, she got as near as she could to watch the Pope settled down on his seat, the Saints lining up near a side, while Athena took her seat beside him. Clapping her hands, the music resumed and so did the dancing.

"Agatha!" She turned her green eyes towards her friend, who brushed her arm with an older man, while trying to get through the crowd. Her red curls bounced with each eager step as it settled when she stood in front of her, wrapping a hand around her frail arm.

"Let us dance," she begged, pulling her towards the center. Agatha let herself be dragged towards the dance floor, watching each face pass her by. She recognized a few, catching a friend of her father's chatting with another man. A smile or two would be exchanged, followed by laughter, only for her to realize it became a pattern among the crowd; after all, today is a joyful event. Her friend came to a sudden halt, letting her bump into her back. She apologized and took a glance at the dancers, each swirl of their dress catching her green eyes.

"Come, Agatha," she pressed, dragging her past two couples. She stopped and turned, bowing her head, while picking up a strand of her dress. Agatha did the same before their palms met and they went in rotation. A halt and she pressed her left hand with her right, while walking counter-clockwise.

A smile was let loose before their arms hooked, grabbing a fistful of their dress and capering in circles. Agatha let her arm slip, raising both hands close to her chest as she twirled away from her partner, only to land into the arms of the unknown. Her eyes met with gold, touching the metal piece as she hesitantly gazed up, hoping to catch navy blue eyes, but she found herself staring at a young boy, blue eyes lighter than the Pisces. Hazel locks were cut choppily, the longest root brushing past his chin. His pale complexion made his eyes alluring to gaze into, as if she was watching the brightest star glow heavenly at night. And the smile he wore made her body shiver at the mere sight of it, as if a lion rested underneath that heap of skin.

"I apologize," she uttered, still latched in the arms of the Gold Saint. His smile never faltered, while a blush tainted his pale skin, letting his hands rest near his sides. Without saying a word, he bowed, surprising her with his stance. It dawned upon her that she nearly forgot that she came here to dance, not gaze into the eyes of boy she barely knew. Though, she never imagined she would be dancing with a Gold Saint. It is a rare opportunity that she found herself accepting his silent offer to dance with a bow and letting her right hand meet with his left.

Their eyes met, never escaping from each other. A halt and they switched hands, feeling the brush of his fingers against hers, a cool sensation ran down her spine. If she had known she would be dancing with a Saint, she would have let her hair down. But, alas, it was kept up with a red string.

Eventually, he hooked his arm with hers, feeling his biceps through the fabric of her long sleeve dress. She bit her lip, admiring the strength he possessed. She lifted a piece of her dress, exposing her leg to the audience. She capered with her partner, letting her eyes fall away from his alluring gaze, catching the many faces swirl by. Soon, she let go, twirling away to meet her next partner, but she should have paid attention to her former partner. The next thing she knew her arm was being tugged that she whirled and flew straight into his open arms.

"Sorry," he said, the proximity of his breath was near her rosy mouth. The volition of her head did not move to the little voice whispering that she needed to get away. Instead, she wanted to press her lips with his, but he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around her form.

"My name is Regulus, and you are?"

It took her a moment for her to realize that he was addressing her. It seemed his lips were quite distracting to pay attention, but deep down she felt that she was committing a crime by even talking to him.

"Agatha," she gave, letting her eyes stray to his eyes.

He smiled and lovingly gazed at her before a hand rested on top of his shoulder. His arms slipped slightly away, feeling the tip of his fingers resting near her hips. He turned to face the Sagittarius Saint, whose smile reached his eyes.

"Let us go, Regulus," he said, patting his nephew on the back. He withdrew, letting his eyes fall on Agatha and taking in her blush appearance. Nodding his head, he left.

"I will follow shortly!" he shouted, turning his attention onto the girl in his grasp. "'Till we meet again, Miss Agatha," he bid, his touch leaving her form, having another shiver run down her back. He gave her a grin and dashed to meet his Uncle.

Her hand lingered in the air before she brought it to her chest, while watching the Saint of Athena stand near the Pope. She smiled and decided to take a break, her eyes faltering away from the throne. Each face, each twirl of dress slithered by, until she caught an impassive gaze from the man she came to admire from afar.

…

Albafica

…

Her feet were glued to the ground of where she stood, watching a couple whiz by. She didn't know if she should move or stay where she was. He leaned against the side of a home, keeping a good distance away from the crowd. His arms were tucked in his chest, while a foot rested against the wall. He kept his gaze intently on her that it was too much for her to bear.

It became apparent that she needed to leave the dance floor, dragging her feet towards the crowd, while taking a glance at the Pisces. By the time she reached the middle, he was gone, having taken his place near the Pope, yet still keeping a distance away from the crowd.

She found her breathing come to a halt when the boy she danced with smiled at her as Albafica gazed away. The event was no longer enjoyable that she needed to get out of here. Pushing against the crowd, she left, feeling the eyes of the Pisces and the Lion follow each step she took.


	19. Moving Forward, Going Backwards

**Character(s):** Aiacos and Violate

**Rating**: T

**Notes**: I tried so hard to keep this rating to a T, instead of an M. I minimized the quantity to a simple kiss than a full, blowout make-out session that turned into something more. Enjoy!

* * *

**Moving Forward, Going Backwards**

A thread of power slipped through his fingers, getting the low-lives to come near. They cowered before him, trembling down on one knee as they waited for his demand. A quench for a sacrifice came to mind that he smirked and gazed at the participants offering themselves to him. It became clear that the last one to the left must die due to his lack of strength, unable to control himself from quivering unlike the others. With a snap of his fingers, his body burst into flames as a screech of agony was forced through his vocals, ending in minutes. His slaves hardly made a move, but only retreated when he required them to leave.

He smiled and rested his cheek on his knuckles, gazing into a distance. The doors burst open and in came Violate, clothed in her armor. It brought a smile to his face, letting his leg uncross from the other to be planted next to his left foot. She reduced herself onto her knees, never looking up to see her master. Though, how appealing it was to see her on her knees, he desired to see her face, to see the scars that she carried on her skin, no matter how clothed she was.

"Violate," his voice slipped and entered through her ear, attracting her attention onto him. "What brings you here?" he asked, rising from his position to take a step down and meet her kneeling form.

"Did you not call for me?" she inquired, never looking up to meet his eyes. His feet circled around her, hearing his excessive tapping drill her ears until it met with silence. A shiver coursed through her body, feeling his breath near her neck, and taking a glimpse to find his face near hers. He brought himself to the ground, his chest meeting her back. With his fingers in her hair, she stood still, pondering his intentions.

Though is it wrong to admit that she felt a thrill with him near her? It was a marvel that she reveled in, committing this moment to memory.

"I believe I did," he whispered, his breath prickling her skin. "Though, I can't seem to remember." He combed her hair, letting it slip and fall through his fingers.

"Shall I take my leave?"

He placed his cheek next to her, his body coming in closer, even though their metal armor clashed and scraped against each other. Running his fingers down her neck, he stopped and took a slight grip, feeling the rhythm of her heart pace normally. He smiled and retreated himself from her.

"You are loyal, no doubt."

She raised her head, shocked to find him kneeling before her. His face kept getting near, unsettling her when he took a kiss and sought for more. The grip of his hands cupped her face, battling with her tongue when she responded to his fierce kiss. Though, when he realized what he was doing did he pull away and let his fingers touch his lips.

She did not stand, nor let her eyes meet his, but simply touch her lips, just like him.

"Leave," he demanded, averting his eyes to be placed anywhere, except on her.

She stood and bowed, taking her bruised lips to the corridors of her room, as the last step left his domain. When she left, he took a glance to where she last was, letting his thumb caress his lips, fondling in the memory that passed seconds ago.

He took a few steps, seeking to find her, but he halted and took a few steps back, changing his mind. Their relationship – if one can call this a relationship – kept moving forward, but he had no desire to continue it. Instead, he kept going backwards, ending whatever he had with her in seconds.

She was a pleasure to have, that even when he saw her the next day he couldn't refuse to admire the woman he came to respect, and perhaps even love. Though, he would keep that a secret and continue to toy with her, like a mistress that she was, until they both die and resurrect in the next era.


	20. Existence

**Character(s): **Defteros, Aspros, and Sisyphus.

**Rating: **K+

**Notes: **So tired…

* * *

**Existence**

Counting down the seconds, Defteros waited for his twin brother to arrive from his training, as he rocked his feet back and forth from the branch he was sitting on. The metal mask he wore made his skin sweat, causing the front layer of his hair to cling to his face. It was another hot, summer day, which he hated to be in, especially wearing a metal piece that grew bothersome to wear in the summer heat.

The movement of his feet came to an end when across from where he sat walked his brother, his shoulders sagged in defeat, while his shoes trudge with each unmanageable step he took. He smiled underneath his mask and jumped from his seat, one knee touching the ground along with his planted feet. His eyes never strayed away from his approaching brother as he rose from his position and strolled toward him.

"Aspros," he called, hands secured by his side. His older brother lazily brought his eyes to meet with his, giving an effort to smile while pushing a strand of his layered hair to a side.

"What is it, Defteros?" he voiced tiredly, his eyes drooping.

"Are you busy, brother?" he asked, waiting patiently for his response.

With a languid sigh, he nodded his head. "The Pope requires my presence along with the others. It seems the rise of Hades's army has surfaced slowly and has begun to attack towns." He weaved his fingers through his hair, letting out an ensuring smile. "Do not fret, brother. I shall return and keep you company." He patted his brother and proceeded towards the Pope's chambers, each steady footstep following into a patter rhythm.

"But," the ten-year-old began, "you haven't even required the Gemini Cloth. What does the Pope want with a student-in-training?"

"Does it matter!" Aspros snapped, letting his eyes meet his in a quick shift and allowing the anger to reach him from head to toe. Yet, slowly, he inhaled and forced a smile, letting his anger subdue. "Sorry, twin brother. I am quite tired and bit cranky with all the amount of training I have endured."

The youngest nodded his head, pleased, for once, to have the mask hiding his frown. Though, he couldn't hide the despair creeping through his eyes, having to shift his head slightly to a side.

"It is alright," he answered and turned, hiding in the shadows that he was born to do and continued to be a hindrance for his older brother.

xx

Defteros swung his feet in the air, having taken shelter in a nearby tree where the training ground resided. With an intrigued passion, he watched the future Sagittarius spare with the future Capricorn, letting his eyes follow each attack and defense they portrayed, committing it to memory.

"El Cid!" bellowed the Capricorn's Master, ending the spar in mere seconds. With a wave of his hand, the silent pupil gave his gratifications and strode towards his master. Though, in quick flash, he looked up the tree, his eyes meeting Deftero's briefly before he left the scene.

The hampering of his heart did not decrease even after El Cid left. It couldn't be possible. He hid where he could hardly be seen, yet the nine-year-old managed to find him where he sat.

"You can come down now." Startled, he looked below, meeting Sisyphus's illuminate smile. "Don't worry. I won't tell Aspros or anyone," he assured.

He didn't know whether to believe his words, but automatically he jumped and landed on his feet, his eyes meeting his dirty shoes before he met his serene blue eyes. Having never spoken to anyone before, he felt his stomach do flips and let his fingers curl into fists, in case the boy was looking for a fight.

Sisyphus let his eyes wander. "I felt a Cosmos approach, but it has left to a different direction." The conversation started off light, yet it did not ease the tense air. He let his eyes look around, until he felt a pinch of power coming from his left, though it was subtle.

"What is your name?" Defteros stayed silent, causing the older teen to laugh. "My name is Sisyphus." He already knew his name. His brother told him everything he needed to know of the people he saw and what they are required to do. That is why he was not surprised to find the older teen sparing with the future Capricorn – it was a regular thing that passed between them. The only thought that troubled him was: how long did they know that he was watching them with precision?

"Well, then," Sisyphus gazed around, "would you like to spar?"

The suggestion made the ten-year-old smile, but he hesitated to take his offer, knowing that he will receive punishment if one of the guards find out. That is why he pulled back and let his eyes wander, knowing that their conversation would have to cease in order to flee.

"It seemed my offer is not supposed to be said," the twelve-year-old noticed, sighing a bit at the news. "Aspros is grateful to have a brother around."

His words caused a brow to rise, questioning the man's logic. He narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, determined to find out what he meant.

"What do you mean?" The question caused the older boy to raise a brow and let a smile bloom.

"That your brother should be glad to have you near when others, like myself, must endure alone in the absence of their family," he answered, providing the boy a moment to ponder and let the words digest.

"Am I of vital importance to him?" Defteros asked. "What is my purpose of one who is born under the star of Chaos?"

Sisyphus patted the boy on top of his head, yet his innocent gesture was pushed away softly with the back of his hand. A serious face met his peaceful expression, waiting patiently for the answer he sought.

"Never question your existence," he answered, slightly smiling. He proceeded to leave the arena, heading past the stone temple before he commenced up the steps toward the temples of the Gold. Yet, as he began to walk, he faltered in his steps, looking at the boy who held a serious face.

"I never did get your name," he voiced.

The ten-year-old stayed silent until he replied: "Defteros."

He closed his eyes and committed the name into memory. Though, the minute he opened his eyes, he found himself alone, the hollow wind replacing the space of where the boy used to be.

xx

"Aspros." The older twin turned to the summon of his name, facing his brother with utmost attention. Taking a spot on his bed, Defteros crossed his legs and felt the ghastly touch of his fingers unbuckle the mask that he wore. Strap after strap, the metal mask slowly unhooked itself as he pulled it from his face and tossed it to one side.

"Thank you, brother," he gratified and turned to face him, while taking his earlier position.

"Defteros, I told you to stop thanking me," Aspros scold, a stern finger raised towards his face. "I shall help you with anything that requires my assistance."

"You are too kind, brother," Defteros commented, his eyes shining bright at the brother he wished to be.

Aspros sighed and flew backward into bed, letting his back rest on the white sheets provided by the Sanctuary. The smell of daises entered his nose, smiling to know that one of the maids held such an alluring aroma that it clung to his sheets when she scrubbed them clean. Turning to face his brother, he grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, which he easily caught.

"What is wrong, Defteros? You are too quiet."

He withheld his silence a tad longer, until he let out a breath and clutch the pillow closer to his chest. "I spoke to Sisyphus."

That caused the older twin to sit right up and let concern cover his face.

"What happened? Did the guards find out?"

Defteros shook his head. "No, we merely chatted before I decided to leave."

"Tend to be more careful, Defteros," cautioned Aspros. "Luckily, Sisyphus caught you. Who knows what could have transpired if another saw you."

The younger twin unhooked his arms around the pillow and resided near his brother as they both watched the ceiling.

"Do you consider me a nuisance, brother?" Defteros asked after a moment of silence, looking upon his brother as a frown settled on Aspros's face. Aspros narrowed his eyes and let the words sink in, not enjoying the topic that discoursed between them. The older twin turned his head and gazed at his brother.

"Never question your existence, Defteros," he comforted. "You are my brother, one who I am willing to protect and die for. And I promise you when I become a Gold Saint, I will punish those who seek harm and make sure that the mask you wear is no longer required."

His words caused a smile to curl on his face as he continued to gaze at his brother, until Aspros broke the trance and brought his eyes toward the ceiling. Watching his brother let out a sigh and relax on his sheets, Defteros brought his hands to his stomach and memorized every line on his brother's face before he too turned his head and faced the ceiling.

"You are a dreamer, Aspros," he stated and drifted into the world of his dreams.


	21. Gift

**Character(s): **Regulus, Sisyphus, and a few mentions of the Gold Saints

**Rating: **K

**Notes: **Busy, busy, busy.

* * *

**Gift**

The creasing forehead, the pouted lips, one could figure that Regulus was lost in concentration. Sitting on a broken pillar, he crossed his legs and tapped his lips. It has been a year since he was brought into the lands of the Sanctuary and already he felt the need to thank his uncle for bringing him here. The thought had crossed his mind before, but every time he brought his plans to light, Sisyphus would always put a cease into it and say: "Knowing that you fight for the cause of Athena is enough for me to be grateful for."

Though his words brought an effort to please him by training each day, he felt the need to thank him properly, thus he sat alone, pondering what could the older man wish to have. It didn't occur to him that Sisyphus had everything he needed, but he was stubborn and sought to relive his guilt. Suddenly, it clicked and the boy brought his eyes to widen at the idea that came forth. Rising from his position, he ran with glee and proceeded toward the Temples of the Gold.

Xx

"The army of Hades continues to rise and the Pope is worried that they may start to attack the Sanctuary soon." Sisyphus halted in his steps and faced his comrades. He crossed his arms, bringing his brows together as he contemplated further on the concern of the Pope. The meeting between the Gold Saint's and the Pope had come to an end, giving both parties doubts of what could occur in the near future. It caused Sisyphus to speak with his comrades when they headed towards their temples, wanting to know what they thought of the matter.

"Bah! The army of Hades are a bunch of weaklings, so what's to worry?" rebuked Manigoldo, confidence dancing in his eyes.

"One should never underestimate their enemies, especially the over-confident." The Cancer Saint glanced towards Asmita, a pout taking place as he flicked his hand and ignored the man's words.

Degel step forward, as behind Aspros crossed his arms and rested near a pillar. "The Leo Saint still has not been announced. With one Gold Saint absent, we will have to be vigilant and use excessive force if necessary."

"So far, the Judges of the Underworld have yet to appear, leaving the weak to do their dirty work," added Kardia, placing a hand on his hip, while the other messed with his hair.

"That does not mean we should let our guard down," commented Shion, letting his cool expression fall on Kardia's smirking face.

"We should take heed of Asmita's words and be caution of our enemies," reminded Sisyphus, turning to face his comrades, who gazed upon him and nodded their heads. Turning and resuming his pace along with the others, he took a step down before a holler was heard, causing him to stop and see his nephew running towards them.

"Regulus?" Sisyphus raised a brow, wondering what the boy was doing here.

Reducing his speed into a light jog, he came to a halt and bended over to bring air into his lungs. The minute he straightened his back, he let out a goofy smile and grabbed Sisyphus's hand. But the man did not move, letting the boy to struggle with each pull.

"Regulus, what are you doing?"

He gritted his teeth and continued to struggle, until a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from his uncle. With a sigh, he turned his head and faced Aldebaran, asking him politely to bring him down. The man did not hesitate to oblige, setting him down on his feet and allowing the boy to explain his reason.

"Sisyphus, I have surprise to show you," he urged, grabbing a hold of the man's cape and slightly pulled. Yet, he patted the boy, stopping him from continuing his act, while his hands still lingered on the cape.

"Now is not the time for surprises," his uncle voiced, ruffling his hazel locks."I must prepare myself for the days ahead."

He frowned and freed his hands from the fabric of his cape. The displeased expression never wavered even when the Gold Saints started to depart. He needed to think of something fast, before he began to lose his opportunity. With a twirl of his heel, he dashed and stopped before his uncle, eventually halting the rest of the Saints in their steps.

"It is of vital importance if you came with me," he pleaded, gaining a sigh from his mentor.

He smiled and proceeded to mess with his nephew's hair, only for his hand to be held and be pulled by Regulus. Each forced step, he followed his nephew down the steps and watched as the others departed to their temples. As they finally reached the Sagittarius temple and entered his study room, Regulus came to a halt and withdrew his hand from his.

"What is so important that you needed to show me?" Sisyphus asked, intrigued as the boy grabbed a canvas from behind his wooden desk, the image hidden with a white cloth on top. Trudging forward, he pulled a seat and rested the canvas in a slanted position before he removed the fabric for the image to be shown. It caused Sisyphus to be surprised at what he saw as he touched the image, tracing the line of Ilias's face.

"Where did you get this?" he questioned, never looking up at his nephew.

"Father was never fond of having his image being painted, but mother insisted that he do so. She wanted to give me a gift. She knew father would isolate us far from the villages and towns," he explained. "That is why mother wanted a memento for me in order to see what beautiful world we live in."

Sisyphus looked at his nephew, giving him a soft smile. Taking a step away from the painting, he cupped his cheek and gave a peck on his temple.

"Thank you, but," he withdrew himself and gazed at the painting, "it is your gift to keep, not mine."

Regulus shook his head. "No, it is your gift now. I don't need it anymore."

His reason caused his uncle to look upon him as if he implored to seek what his nephew meant.

"Father is with me even as we speak." He smiled. "I don't need the canvas, knowing that he is with me each day." Removing it from the chair, he gave it to his uncle. "Take care of it," he voiced, receiving a nod in response.


	22. First Kiss

**Warning**: AU Setting.

* * *

**First Kiss**

The thought of having her first kiss made Agatha question how it would turn out, and with whom she will have the honor to receive it from. She tapped a finger on her chin, pondering if it could be one of the boys down the street that will gain her affection. One of the boys – Cedric, was it? – kept coming to her house nearly every day, much to her surprise. Most of the boys would never want to hang out with a girl like her. She was too boyish and had the nature to speak freely of her opinion. Many men scorned at her father for not teaching his child the etiquette that needed to be provided. Hence, Mrs. Bentley was acquired to teach her the manners women are supposed to portray. She damned the day she wore frill dresses, but she had learned to adjust and let the complaint wither into dust. Yet, back to the earlier topic, if there could be one person she wished to lose her first kiss to that would be toward the Pisces Saint, Albafica.

A tap to the door caught her attention. She stood up from her seat, wiping her dress to present herself more formidably. Checking her hair with the press of her palm, she brought her hand forward, unlocking the bolt before the lever was pulled and she was faced with her friend, Elizabeth.

"Agatha, I have astounding news," she announced.

She let her friend pass, the door coming to a close behind her.

"What is it, Elizabeth?" she inquired in haste, leading her friend by the arm to sit.

Elizabeth untied the ribbon of her bonnet, peeling it off her head. She rested it near her side, the turn of her blond head revealing her perfected bun. The fall of her blue eyes falling on Agatha's face once more brought a smile to bloom and a hand to rest, momentarily, on her thigh.

"They say," she dashed her eyes around, "that there is a gathering tonight."

"A gathering? Tonight?" repeated Agatha.

"Yes," she lowered her voice in a hush whisper, "well, between us young folks that is." She glanced to the left. "I hear that a few Gold Saints will be present."

"But, that is impossible!" Agatha claimed. "Everyone knows that a Gold Saint can never leave their post unless required by the Pope himself."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, but not everyone knows that a few of them disregard the rules."

"What do you mean?" Agatha pressed, the meeting of her brows displaying the curiosity she had on the subject.

"They are not all saints." The blond glanced away. "I find this to be but transparent lies, yet Susie claims that one of them gave her a kiss." A hand was brought to her lips, suppressing the chuckle that emerged. "Laughable, really, as if the Gold Saint of Scorpio would reduce himself to smack lips with her. Some even claim that they slept with him. Ridiculous!"

"Slept with him?" inquired Agatha.

"It is all but lies," Elizabeth reassured. "But, if what they say is true, imagine the experience they must have gone through."

"Experience?"

"Oh, Agatha, don't act like a fool."

She kept her silence and resumed listening to her friend's rant.

"I, for one, would not let the opportunity pass, if it tends to happen."

"How can you say such a thing?" Agatha voiced. "If the man you marry in the future finds that you committed fornication with another, he can have you hanged."

Their conversation ceased when Agatha's father came into the room. His unannounced presence frightened both girls when he greeted Elizabeth. They quickly stood as Elizabeth grabbed her bonnet and placed it on top of her head.

"Mr. Simmers, how do you do?" She gave a curt bow. "I must apologize, but I shall be taking my leave."

"So soon?" he asked. "I would have thought you would have joined us for lunch."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but mama requires my help and has only allowed me a certain amount of time to chat with Agatha."

She bowed once more and tied the ribbon to her bonnet. Agatha followed, proceeding to open the door while her friend finished tying the ribbon under her chin. She sighed and hugged her friend; the sensation of her breath heated her ear.

"Don't forget. Tonight we leave."

"At what time do I await you?"

"Meet me at bell-tower at eleven. Don't be late."

Elizabeth pulled away, taking a slight bow, before she left into the street.

"What did you and Elizabeth chat about, Agatha?" her father asked, residing in his favorite seat, as he opened a novel.

"Nothing of importance, papa," she answered, shutting the door to a close.

xx

The gathering occurred in the outskirts of Rodorio, the fireplace being the light in the dark. It dawned upon Agatha that most of the people she saw consisted of a group of boys, including Cedric, and girls that she encountered nearly every day. As for the rest, well, it was easy to identify the ones that were Saints or Saints-in-training with what they wore, yet no Gold Saint was present, making her believe that they weren't going to show and the stories told were false lies.

She took a seat on the lodge, watching every one laughed and passed the mug of ale around. She felt that she was rather out of place, watching one of the girls, Maria, twirl in circles, drunk and sputtering nonsense out of her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Elizabeth speaking to one Saint, letting her finger trail the muscle on his arm.

Agatha tugged her shawl closer to her chest and watched the group dance and drink to their heart's content.

"Psst." She heard a sound, turning her head to the bushes. "Psst. Come here." An unfamiliar voice beckoned her that she knew she shouldn't have gotten up and listened to the person's request, but it was better than watching the others participate in a drinking contest.

"Who's there?" she inquired. Her arm was grabbed and pulled that she barely had time to react. She felled into the arms of the unknown, gasping at the contact of cool metal. The immediate recognition of golden armor made her pause in her desperate actions to escape and look up. A grin met her eyes followed by alluring eyes belonging to the boy she danced with the past week.

"You're the Leo Saint, Regulus," she whispered, detaching herself from his arms to rest on her knees.

"I'm surprised you even recognize me." He rubbed the back of his head.

"How could I not? You provided me with a wonderful dance," she informed. "But, may I ask, what are you doing here?"

He leaned in, whispering softly, "I heard of a gathering happening tonight."

"Will there be other's joining us?"

"Yes, but not in the way you hoped."

"I do not understand, Lord Regulus."

"Please, call me Regulus," he persuaded, "Word spread of what is to occur that the Pope ordered some Saints to put an end to it." He grabbed her hand, a gasp falling off her lips. "Come, let us be off."

He pulled her to his chest, placing his hands underneath her legs, as he escaped from the scene, hearing a commotion ensue when the ordered Saints arrived. Agatha secured her arms tight around his neck that she failed to realize when they had stopped near the entrance of town.

"You can open your eyes now," he alerted.

She opened her eyes, surprised to see where they were at. She threw her attention back to him and held in a breath when she noticed how close their faces were. A blush tainted her features as she withdrew herself from his hold.

"Shall I lead you home?"

The question made her blush worse. "That would be most obliged."

He grabbed a hold of her hand, startling her with his action. Men are required to offer their arms for women to latch on to, but it seemed Regulus was not taught that. It made her question: what else does he know besides fighting?

The tug of her hand led her to follow his every step, ending in a direction that didn't lead to home.

"Where are we going?"

He stopped and glanced behind, scratching his chin, as he confessed, "I'm leading you home."

"Well, we just passed my home."

"Oh." He smiled. "Well, why didn't you say so? Lead the way."

She blushed and pulled her hand away from his grasp. The whirl of her heel allowed her the view of the alley instead of his back. Each step trudge closer to home, but the thought of returning made the inside of her stomachs flutter. In the back of her mind, she didn't want, whatever this was, to end.

The view of her window was seen as she crept closer to the back of her home, his taps alerted her that he would not leave until she was inside. A finger was brought to her lips, a hush was given. The clear inside of her window allowed her to raise her head and see if her father had discovered her missing and had taken refuge in her room. But she found him nowhere in sight, alluding her to believe that he was still asleep.

She pushed the window opened and stood on her feet, putting one foot in before the other.

"You have my sincerest gratitude." She peeled off her shawl, letting it rest nearby a chair.

"Not all, Miss Agatha."

"You remembered my name." She was shocked to learn.

"How can I forget?" He crept closer, his hands resting on the window frame. "Your face can never seem to leave my mind." A hand was brought to her cheek. His thumb caressed her lips, softly memorizing the touch. He faintly smiled and leaned in, the pulse of her heart increased with each second that he came near. The cool touch of his lips brought her to gasp, yet lean in and partially open her mouth, an invitation for him to deepen the kiss.

He took the permitted access, sloppily kissing her, until a pattern was formed. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck, bringing him closer, whatever space the window could provide. Their tongues danced in a fiery passion, trying to tame the other in a battle of dominance that one could not afford to lose. She pulled apart when she could no longer match his passion and turned her head to a side.

As a final bid, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and took a step back before he left from her sight. Agatha shut her window to a close and brought a finger to her bruise lips, still in shocked that her first kiss had transpired with a Gold Saint no less. It would be a secret to her grave that she vowed, but the thought to have her first kiss stolen by a boy her age saddened her for her desired wish was to have it with the man she wanted most.


	23. The Chameleon and the Fish

**Notes**: Jenny DeVic's request of wanting to see the exchange between Aphrodite and June. Sorry it took so long.

* * *

**The Chameleon and the Fish**

Aphrodite cursed under his breath, as he patiently waited for Albiore to finish speaking with a student of his. It had been two months since he was refrained from leaving, owing Albiore a multitude of favors for his atrocious deed in the past, and one of them was to make a vow to not fight with any of his students.

He tapped the tip of his boot against the ground. His eyes were constantly on alert, making sure that his students, Leda and Spica, weren't around to cause mischief. He blew a breath and swiped his bangs to a side. The time continued to pass, until he realized that he had been sitting on the log for a long time. He growled under his breath and stood from his seat. It could matter little to him that he interrupted a conversation between the master and his student. Precious time was wasting, none that he was able to afford to lose.

He tapped twice, hoping to gain a response. A sigh wandered free and made his eyes narrow at the injustice that he was put through. He brought his hand to rise and rub against the wooden door. He was about to knock when the door was open, giving him access to enter. Though, the offer wasn't taken in haste, rather he ignored to take the chance when he came across a girl he had a vague memory of.

A brow was raised, questioning her reason of being here. It was obvious that she bore her Bronze Cloth, but what the blazes was she doing here with Master Albiore? A shock crossed his features, appalled to the fact that she, _his_ _student _from what he presumed, had to endure such cruel weather under Albiore's care. He looked at her in sympathy, wanting nothing more but to take the delicate flower away from the rapid changes of the weather that occurs on Andromeda Island. And what made him more appalled was the fact that she had to live with two idiots who took advantage of his current state.

"Is something the matter, Pisces Aphrodite?" she asked.

"I was wondering: how long is Albiore going to take?"

"My Master is rather busy at the moment writing his report." She took a step outside and closed the door behind her. "Perhaps, I can be of assistance."

"Trust me, little girl, you wouldn't have the answer to my response." He looked away. The glare of the sun grated him and brought his skin to perspire.

"Well, how can I know the answer when you have not given me a question to respond?" She looked at him, her mask hid her features.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through his damp bangs. "Touché." He took a step back and sighed.

"I believe my time has come to leave. Though, would Albiore allow me to spread my wings from the prison he had kept me inside?"

She did not say a word at first, pondering carefully on his question. The harsh wind brushed by, dancing with her blond hair. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear when it stopped.

"No," she bluntly confessed, receiving a glare from him.

"Why not?" The thought of having to continue to live with people he would much rather avoid brought his eyes to narrow and his brows to meet.

She lifted her mask halfway and blew a breath. The heat was becoming a bothersome and made the inside of her mask cling to her sweaty face.

"I am sorry, but …" She paused and placed her mask down. "…my master has to inform you, not I."

Aphrodite blankly stared at her.

"Did you not say that you had the answer to my question?"

"No," she shook her head, "I said I might have the answer to your question, and I do."

"Then, why can't I leave?" he persisted.

"Well… " She took a moment to gather her words. "…what shall you take for transportation when the ship will not arrive for a long time?"

"I will wait for when it arrives."

"For six months?" The minute she had given him the amount of time he needed to wait, he cursed Shun to hell. Though, perhaps, it wasn't a wise choice to do when the girl, who is known as June, came to the Andromeda's defense and cracked a whip against her palm. It seemed the male students of Albiore weren't the only ones taking advantage of his situation. He merely hoped that he would survive the months that came and reassure that he will never cross paths with Albiore and his students again.


	24. Attraction

**Notes: **A gift to **StarRyou**, more to come don't worry. Sorry, it is short.

**Summary**: The beginning of Regulus's attraction toward Agatha. AU Setting.

* * *

** Attraction **

The heat of the fire crackled in the air, dancing harshly to the movements that surrounded it. A small speck of flame went up into the breeze, the cool night claiming the fire dot in seconds. The whirl of a dress flapped the flame to a side, hissing when the cloth fluttered by.

Regulus crouched and touched the dirt, eyeing the girl he came to admire. She whirled and threw her arms in the air. The flow of her blue dress revealed her pale legs underneath. She danced to a tune that the musicians played for Athena's birthday, smiling with her eyes partially close. He smiled and watched her twirl and caper around in circles. The sway of the flame brushed an orange hue across his face.

He stood and walked behind the front row of people admiring the dance routine the girls of their village had conjured up. The color of the flame was glowing in his orbs. Anyone would suspect that he was admiring the dance as well, but if one looked closer, his main concentration was on the girl he came to adore.

She had wanted to deliver flowers for the Pope, but, instead, she had to endure the rain, as the flowers were consumed by the heavy drops. He noticed her soak state and headed her way, preparing to take off his cape for her to stay dry. She appeared innocent and fragile to touch. He did not understand why his heart began to beat fast when he began to approach her. Though, he wasn't the only one who noticed her. Pisces Albafica appeared and covered the girl with his own cape. It brought Regulus to stop and retreat, knowing better than to cross paths with the Pisces.

He vowed to see her again.

And today was the day he saw her once more.

The only object, or rather person, standing in his way was his comrade, Albafica. The man stood a length from the Grand Pope's chair, watching with precision at the dance the girls performed. He raised his eyes and met Regulus's fierce ones. The Leo slithered behind a group of people, as his face was briefly seen in the crowd. Every time his face was shown, Albafica caught the intensity of his eyes, as if he was challenging him in a duel over the girl's affection.

He knew better than to fight with his superiors. He looked away without hesitation.

Regulus smiled and disappeared behind another man, failing to notice the predatory gleam that Albafica was giving. He slid back into the crowd and turned, taking in the final image of the girl who danced near the flames, her face filled with passion, as she raised her hands in the air.

The Lion continued with his retreating steps, vowing to know her name when the next festivity came. His eyes were still set on her, until he turned and left.

* * *

**Notes: **I might as well write a story about them, but, at the moment, no. It will have to be a few months from now.


	25. The Formidable Lust

**The Formidable Lust**

Pandora had envisioned this to happen, staring at the scene in amazement. A weak slave had decided to take his chances against the Wyvern of all people. All that was left was a pool of blood and charred walls evident to his death. She lowered herself to the floor, noticing a substance that turned out to be the man's skin swimming in his own blood. It seemed the Wyvern had gotten the job done in a rapid, gruesome manner, leaving nothing but bits and pieces of him, if one can find it.

With a huff, she turned, not longer interested at what she saw. She had thought she was alone, but the sight of the Wyvern caused a gasp to elicit from her lips. Her hand was placed above her heart, calming her frighten state. Judge Rhadamanthys stood before her, his head hanged low, as he bowed before her feet.

"Lady Pandora," he called her name. She gripped her staff and held it to her breast, angry at how frighten she appeared.

"Is something the matter, Lady Pandora?" he questioned. His eyes lifted to meet hers. She examined his emotionless orbs, hoping to find at least a strand of emotion latched around those gold eyes, but found nothing. It was as if he held no emotion, but given a body to complete Hades's task. Her eyes widen at a small ping of light seen in his eyes. Could it be that he did held an emotion behind those dead eyes?

"My lady," he labeled. She was curious to discover the secret behind Rhadamanthys, too curious for her own good.

She whipped her staff and placed the tip near his neck. "Frighten me again and it will be your head." He stood up when she removed her weapon from his skin. With a hand pressed against his breast, he bowed.

"As you wish, my lady."

He left her presence, heading down the corridor until he was a mere silhouette on the wall. Pandora placed her staff near her side, determined to unravel the secrets behind the Judge. She took a step forward and started her mission.

Her inquisitiveness led her down the path he took. She used her ears, hearing the sounds of the men wailing in pain. It was no doubt that he would be there. He was, after all, the executioner. At the end of the corridor, she was faced with a rail. She looked down and saw a set of stairs, leading down to Tartarus. There was no turning back. She needed to know more about the Judge, who accepted her as his master since the first day they met.

A presence loomed behind her. She whirled and gasped, taken by the stature of the Judge who dare piqued her curiosity.

"My Lady," he titled. He bowed before her feet, not inquiring the reason behind her motive to follow him.

Pandora fumed and pointed the tip of her staff to his cheek. Electricity pooled around her weapon, dancing with the front layer of his hair.

"Did I not tell you that I shall take your life if you dare frighten me again?" she threatened.

He lifted his eyes and gazed at her. "I apologize. I did call your name, but you failed to notice my presence."

She snorted. "Are you saying that I am to blame for being frighten?" She pressed her staff to his neck, drawing blood to flow down his chest.

"No," he answered. "I am to blame. Kill me if you must."

Pandora took in a breath, frightened at what she had caught. His eyes portrayed an emotion that she should have detected earlier—lust. The formidable lust danced in his eyes and it was directed at her. She shook her head, denying that he held a feeling for her. Perhaps, he lusted for pain. At this point, she didn't care what he desired to have as she left from his presence, trying to forget those lustful, golden eyes drawing her in.

She glanced behind as he turned and met her eyes. With a jerk of her head, she left from his sight, no longer wanting to unravel the secrets behind the man known as Rhadamanthys.


	26. Father

**Father**

Youma grinned at the child in his arms. His own child, the son of a lesser god, is the Pegasus Saint. He chuckled and tapped his son's nose as the child yawned and turned his head to a side, trying to take a nap through his father's chuckles.

"You are a great addition. Yes, you are," he cooed. "You are the Pegasus Saint, the one who controls the fates of the gods." He caressed his son's face, softly. "Though, you are small and have not a clue of your role, time goes by in haste," he snapped his fingers, "and you will discover what power you have."

He drew near, his nose pressing against his tiny one. "You are a marvel." The child was pressed against his chest as he rose from his seat and pattered to his crib. He placed him down carefully, not wanting to awaken the boy. Tenma creased his forehead and adjusted his head to a side. He continued to sleep, unaware of his father's presence disappearing step by step.

By the time he closed the door, he let out a breath. He jumped when his wife appeared as he turned.

"You will play a very good part as a jester if you continue to scare me like that," he warned.

Partita smiled and shook her head, already used to his poetic sarcasm. "How is Tenma?"

"The boy is asleep. Let him be."

She knitted her brows, confusion danced on her features.

"Hmm…" Youma raised a brow. "Does something trouble you, Partita?"

She nodded her head. "I will be gone momentarily. You will have to watch Tenma for awhile."

Her husband grinned and swayed from leg to leg. "Is that what troubles you?" he chuckled. "You worry too much over a boy whose destiny is about to begin. Don't forget, Partita," he smirked and tugged his bow. "You have a part to play."

She said nothing but glanced toward the door. The man chuckled and drew near, spotting a pinch of sadness touching her features, but it was gone in a second, never having been seen. She nodded her head and left to meet Pandora and her mother. Her departing steps started to fall into silence.

He leaned back on his heels and looked toward the door where his son laid. The boy won't be awake for awhile so why bother to stand around? He went forward, yet stopped when his son cried for attention. The man glared at the door, pondering if he should dare to enter. The boy will surely cry himself to sleep, nothing he should worry about. Since he ruled out the idea of going to see his son, he stepped forward but stopped when his wife's face entered his mind. Her innocent smile brought him to glance toward the door, wondering if it was the right choice to step in. His wailing son was calling and he had no choice but to enter for Partita's sake.

He towered over the crib and leaned forward. His son screams were loud and persistent, demanding someone to lift him up and give him attention. Youma let out a sigh and picked him up. The child was starting to quiet down as he rocked his arms from side to side. The minute the child felt safe in his arms, he stopped and began to relax into his father's chest. And though he may have refused to show affection toward his son, he was displaying it at that moment as he kissed his forehead and smiled. It was the only time Youma had truly acted as a father.


	27. As One Falls, the Other Continues On

**As One Falls, the Other Continues On**

It is a strange weather today. One that Ilias did not like to see. The sky dimmed and the trees shook. The clouds from afar appeared grim with the possibility of raindrops approaching their destination. He glanced behind, checking if his wife and son were alright. They steadily walked up the steep hill, as his wife looked at their son and tugged him forward.

The movement of the tree's branches trembled and sent the wind toward his direction, encircling him with broken leaves that flutter toward his wife. She took a strong hold of their son's hand, eyes filled with love and happiness at her son's excitement when he felt the wind danced around his locks. He let go of her grasp and pattered toward a fallen leave, picking it up in awe. His lips formed an oval shape as he let out a breath and watched the leave sway into the air until it met the dirt ground.

The aged Leo heard the howl of the wind grow louder as the wind increased in its velocity. Mother Earth was speaking to him, sending him a message of what was about to occur, which caused his eyes to lower and cast his attention onto the ground. He took the grave news in silence and shut his eyes from facing his dear wife. It was time that they left the forest and head back to the village.

The serene features that his son possessed gripped his soul when he opened his eyes. He could bear it no longer and turned his attention toward his wife. And when their eyes clashed, she knew something was wrong and silently accepted the upcoming occurrence with a nod of her head. The wife of the Leo was prepared for the incoming crisis, and did not let the news disturb her from watching her son throw leaves in the air as he burst into giggles.

"Mama," he called. "It's a pretty weather, huh?"

She lowered herself to her knees and cupped her son's cheeks. "It is, my son, but I believe it is time we left though." She looked up, noticing the dark clouds approaching. "We do not want to be caught in the rain."

Regulus nodded his head. "Yes, Mama."

Her three-year-old son took a hold of her hand and continued up the steep hill. His father had his back turned toward them, his head bowed and his arms crossed. Regulus looked toward his mother and nipped his lip.

"Mama?"

She looked to him.

"Can I go with Papa?"

She nodded her head once and let him go. He struggled up the hill. His little legs did not provide the strength he needed to fully run up the hill, but he had managed to get to his father and run toward him. His mother was not far behind. She only needed a couple of steps to reach them.

Ilias did not fully acknowledge his son until he felt Regulus tug his cape. He lowered his eyes and met his blue orbs, innocently unaware of what was about to occur. A light smile touched his lips as he patted his son's head and stared at his wife. She was short of breath and needed a moment to rest.

"Regulus…" His son looked up. "Go to the village." His son nodded and ran toward village excitedly. It was the first time his father had given him the opportunity to go alone.

Ilias watched him sprint off, admiring the energy Regulus possessed. If only that energy would pass toward his wife, as he looked back toward her, noticing her rapid breaths and a trail of blood running down her chin. He approached her and placed his arm around her waist, while holding her hand with the other. His wife smiled and allowed him to help her to reach the village.

"Thank you."

He concentrated his vision ahead, his eyes straining from his fixation.

"I apologize."

He said nothing.

"It is my fault that you are dying."

She gazed at him, taking in his downcast eyes.

"I never wanted this to happen."

Her eyes lowered to the dirt ground.

"Death is not as frightening as it sounds."

He stopped and shut his eyes, unaware of the tear that ran down his cheek. It had barely registered into his mind that he was crying until his wife wiped away the tears. He looked at her and took in her smile, a smile that still continued to radiance through the pain that she was experiencing.

All he wanted was another day for her to live, but Mother Nature had informed him that it was time for her to go. He refused to believe that she was dying, noticing how energetic she seemed to be appear this morning; however, when he examined her eyes further, he saw the strength that she possessed was little, confirming that she used her last bit of power to enjoy her final moments with their son and him. It took all his willpower to not burst into tears and embrace his wife. He didn't want her death to be a sad one.

He led her toward a different path and took her to her favorite spot. On top of the hill, where the village lay below, an apple tree stood with daisies crowded around it. The smile on her face caused him to smile as well when they sat underneath the tree, as he embraced her from behind while she laid her head against his chest.

"Do you know why this spot was precious to me?"

He rested his cheek on top of her head.

"This is where we first met." She glanced to a side and pointed toward the forest. "You had just come from a battle, having the markings of death all over your hands. My instinct reaction was to run, but I never felt intrigued of a man who had just witness fatality."

She gripped his hands. "I always thought you would never be interested in a woman like me. I was too dominate, perhaps, even stubborn to acknowledge any of the men in my village. But, when I saw you…" She turned her head and looked into his eyes. "…I wanted so much for that love you had for the earth to be directed towards me."

"When I finally had it, I thought our time together will never end." A kiss was planted on his cheek.

She turned her head and rested against his chest, taking a moment of silence. "It's a beautiful day, huh?" she muttered.

Ilias glanced toward the sky, noticing the dark clouds departing to allow the sun passage. The sun's rays flickered through the branches as Ilias took in a deep sigh and laid his cheek on his wife's head, speaking at last.

"Yes, it is."

Her final breath was taken and she was no more.

xx

A dreadful feeling was gnawing at Regulus's skin. He nipped his lip and looked at the village, pondering if it was the right choice to leave. But the unpleasant feeling continued to grip his soul that he could no longer withstand it and ran toward the forest. His thoughts were placed on his mother, wondering if she was alright.

The forest was drawing near.

He picked up the pace and ran with all his might. His face was glistened with tears, unaware that he was crying until he came to a halt and felt a tear run down his cheek. The feeling of terror consumed his body and left him mute. He didn't know how to take the image of his father appearing through the forest without his mother in sight. His eyes lowered to the ground as he stood there, not fully comprehending why he was sad.

His father brushed past him and continued toward the village.

"Where's Mama?" he croaked.

Ilias came to halt and turned to his son.

"She is everywhere: in the dirt, in the trees, even the sky itself."

His father's cryptic words left him confused. He turned to his father and rubbed his eyes.

"Will she be coming back soon?"

A gentle smile spread over his father's lips.

"It's more like we are going to see her soon."

Regulus looked toward the ground and sniffed.

"Regulus, it is time we left."

He nodded his head and pattered behind his father. A light cough erupted through his father's lip that Regulus drew closer and examined his face. His father looked down and ruffled his hair, not wanting to alarm his son that death was approaching him soon, if not tomorrow, then months from now.

Ilias looked ahead and imagined the disease spreading through his body, chipping away his immune system until he could no longer fight the bacterial invasion…


	28. Realistic Illusion

**Notes**: A request from Ai Pandora.

* * *

**Realistic Illusion**

Shun did not expect to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up in a world of dark. He rose from the cold floor, disliking that he was trapped where he could not make out where he was.

To refrain from shouting a multiple of curses, he kept his composure calm and analyzed his situation. A solid wall was in front of him. Behind him, he felt nothing but an empty space. He turned around and took a few steps, whatever he can manage to get in the dark realm. The tip of his shoe had hit another wall as he felt the roughness of the exterior under his palm. It felt as if he was trapped inside a room, no door or window to lead the way out. The only questions that came to mind were: who brought him here, how, and why?

A bright light was turned on, bringing discomfort to his eyes. He shielded his face and scrunched his eyes at the object that drew near. The walls that surrounded him faded and collapsed into dust. The particles of sand were whisked away by a sudden wind as it flew into the dark abyss. Shun focused his attention ahead after he had adjusted to the lit room. Noticing the outline of a human, he couldn't tell who approached only that they carried a lantern in hand.

Tap after tap, the person drew near.

He felt his heart rise with anticipation, but quieted it down after several intakes of air.

It was at the moment he felt the world tremble and brought him to his knees. The silhouette from afar became nothing but a ghostly image that dispersed the minute his eyes traced for it.

He looked around and found the dark world crumble and burst into a pillar light where his eyes could not bear to see. The moment he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting under a cherry blossom tree surrounded by a blue sky and a vast of green land. The sun was nowhere to be sought, as he questioned the logic of how the world was being lit.

"Come here."

He turned his head toward the source that called for him and lost interest of where the sun might be. Curiosity was becoming evident upon his features. His mind kept reasoning with him that something was wrong, but he toss the idea aside and brought in his nosy side. Whoever had brought him here, the person had a purpose, whether it was a good or bad intention he didn't know.

And he didn't care as he began to stroll through the grassy field.

He welcomed the chance to not be reminded of the constant nightmares he had of his friends and brother. He didn't know how much longer he could handle his intense dreams, but he did not object to the idea of someone taking him away from the harsh reality to be placed into a world of fantasy. And that was one of the reasons why he embraced the fake world and his captor.

His feet came to halt when someone approached. He turned his head to a side, examining every angle of the person who came forth. The hooded cape was becoming a hindrance that left Shun failing to see who the person was. The only assumption he could conjure up was that the person was female.

And his assumption was correct when the woman threw the hood back and bore a wicked smile. It was a smile that brought Shun's brows to draw near, and be intrigued of the uplifted curve of her lips that entailed a secret of what he wished to know.

"You seemed lost."

His curiosity was mauled over by euphoria when the sound of her voice entered his ear, sounding sweet with a tang of authority. The every fiber of his being told him to call forth his armor of justice, but he overpowered his warrior instinct and danced with the moment of chance. After all, there was something about the woman that attracted him and brought him to listen intently when she spoke again.

"Are you aware of the circumstance that you are in?"

He nodded his head.

"I thought insanity would have consumed you already."

The woman had begun to walk around him in a circle, her critical eyes examining him from head to toe. Shun watched her closely, having second thoughts on summoning his armor, if the dreamland allowed it to happen.

"Why do you run, my king?"

He raised a brow, confusion etched on his face.

"What?"

Her dark eyes enriched her smirk.

"You do not remember me, my lord."

Insanity must have taken over her was his immediate assumption. Confusion continued to grip his face when a growl slipped from her lips. A deep sigh followed shortly as a trident appeared in her hand.

"It was those Bronze Saints that have polluted your mind."

A gasp slipped through his lips. The hairs on his arms prickled at the mention of his comrades.

"You know my friends?"

She 'hmphed' and nodded her head.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Does it matter if you acquire a name?"

He followed her every step with his gaze.

"Yes."

She halted and laughed.

"A name is insignificance at the moment. Perhaps, another time is more suitable."

Shun narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to the woman. Hardened fists resided by his side, aiming to decrease the pace of his heart beating against his chest. He took a stand in front of her, close enough to feel the proximity of her dark aura rub against his pale skin. Baffled by her strong appearance, he was at loss of what to say, his mouth emitting sounds that did not formulate words. Her ruby lips were tugged into a smile.

"No words to say?"

He tore his eyes away, not wanting to give away any form of indication that he was indeed at loss for words. She, however, still caught his anxiety and chuckled at his failure to be discrete. He felt the smoothness of her hand touch the bicep of his arm, stunned at how near she was. It became an instant pull of his eyes to look up and meet the closeness of her face near his. His heart began to pace, uncertain of where these feelings were coming from.

His eyes went toward her ruby lips as she mouthed the sound of his name, only to hear the voice of Tatsumi leave from her lips. He brought a hand against the side of his head, perplexed if he was hearing the butler's voice. He shook his head, ridding himself of such notion, until he heard his name being called by Tatsumi once more. The world had begun to darken as red petals crossed his vision.

He took a step back, and was about to glance behind, until the woman placed her hand on his cheek, bringing his attention onto her.

"Before they take you away from me…" She leaned closer. His eyes grew wide when he felt the touch of her lips against his. "…I will seal my final promise of finding you again."

He couldn't translate of what she meant, and began to open his mouth to question her. He neither had the time to even speak as she smashed her lips against his. He took a step back when he felt the weight of her body press against him. His body tensed; his hands hovered by her sides. He was at loss of what action to take.

It was by determination that he began to take action. The firm grasp of her hips had brought an instant pleasure to course out of her mouth. He lowered his head and deepened the kiss, taking in the abundance of her sweet mouth, feeling the softness of her ruby lips, and meeting the fiery passion that she possessed with each clash of her tongue meeting his. She instantly pulled away when he brought her body closer to his.

The connection linked together by their mouths had him quenching for more. He fondled his lip in awe and gazed at the woman in front of him. Dark hair spilled from the tight ponytail that she bore and covered one eye. She appeared malicious with a crazed smile, and having a trident in one hand had further illustrated that she was a psychopath. By the sight of her, it was enough to fuel any normal person to tense and run away, but Shun was far from normal. He was what he would consider different, and unafraid of whatever malicious creature that appeared.

Tatsumi's voice still ranged in a distant, but Shun was unmotivated to leave from her presence. Her ruby lips were captivated by his eyes. All he wanted was to have another kiss from a craze woman.

He never got the chance when his eyes began to feel heavy.

Emerald eyes were brought to a close as his world crumbled and brought him to reality. The minute he awoke, he was faced with Tastumi's worried expression and Athena's hard gaze set on him. He pushed his body upward and met their eyes. Their instant reaction was not what he had expected.

Tatsumi had distance himself away from the sofa that Shun was laid on, sputtering out words that could not form a sentence. Shun drew his attention away from him and looked onto Athena. Not a single word was emitted from her lips.

"What's the matter?" he questioned.

A heavy sigh withdrew from Athena's lips. She departed from their side, each step taking her farther away from the smear of red lipstick planted on the star of Shun's necklace.


	29. Blue Spirit

**Blue Spirit**

Brother Ikki had once told him to never speak to strangers especially if they seemed to pertain to have unnatural habits that wasn't deem appropriate, but he had never heard him say not to speak to spirits that do not carry a physical form. The spirit did not seem to have a sense of evil surrounding it, but looks can be deceiving, or, in this case, spirits can be quite cruel to the living due to their envy. Yet, that did not seem to be the case, since the spirit chose to have a long separation between them. It was merely floating around in a distance where the darkness accommodated its lonely presence.

Shun, at first, found it odd to have seen the spirit around him during the day since usually it was when he was asleep that he would see it floating around in his dreams. The younger brother of Ikki did not think too much on the spirit, regarding it as something he dreamt about, and held no meaning to what his dream entail. It was when he began to see it when he awoke that he took the spirit's presence quite seriously and became frightened.

He questioned the other children if they saw it as well, but they laughed and began to make fun of him. Ikki, of course, took action, but his act of protecting his younger sibling did nothing to shake that spirit away.

Shun could no longer take the spirit's presence that he stayed up throughout the night and waited for the others to be deep asleep. The room had become deadly quiet. The shallow breaths of the children were the sounds that met his ears solely. Sitting up, he gathered the courage to speak to the blue flame near the corner of his shared bedroom. One foot was taken out from underneath his warm blankets to meet the cold floor followed by the other.

He held his blanket for security and strode toward the corner of where the flame resided. As close as he could get, he took a seat on the cold floor, and held the blanket near his chest. His green-eyes grew wide when the blue flame came closer, illuminating the dark corner of where the two huddled.

"Are you my guardian angel?"

The flame flickered. A glimpse of a man's face was caught briefly in the dancing blue spirit.

"Is that why you are following me?"

The flame swayed violently. The shadows on the wall grew and took shape of a man in armor.

"It is probably the reason why the other kids cannot see you." He held his tongue from saying anymore, keeping the last part of information of whether or not he was insane to himself.

The boy grew closer, aiming to touch the flame in front of him. The spirit did nothing, nor said anything, when his hand went through its body. It merely observed the five-year-old quickly change his expression into awe when his hand was not burnt.

Shun withdrew his hand, eyes downcast. A burning village flashed through his mind, shaking his little body from the fear that was forming.

The boy grasped his head when he saw glimpses of a person's life, not of his own, provide him with scenes filled of bloodbath. A king of great power, carrying an evil heart, was murdering thousands to repent for their disobedience against the gods. His lips curved into a wicked smile, staring at the people, he deemed as low-lives, begging for mercy at the heel of his silver boot. Blue-eyes looked up and stared at the little boy. Shun gaped and tried to move away, until the man approached and all became quiet.

The sounds of his heavy footsteps began to fill the room as all Shun could think about was how he should have listened to Ikki's words.

His heart began to flip in his chest at each step that drew near his hunched form. It became quiet after and drew the little boy's curiosity to look up from his knees meeting the blue-eyes of a pale face and black-haired king.

A deep chuckle was heard, vibrant and powerful, that shook him to the core.

"Innocent child, so pure, so naïve… Let me tell you one thing: the reason why others cannot see me is because I am within you." The sword he held in his right hand was used to lift up Shun's chin. "You are my vessel, born to do my every bidding to the last breath that you take." The king lowered his sword and walked around in him in a slow circle. "The time will soon come when the world shall repent for their disobedience, and all of Olympus will bow toward me, the King of the Underworld, for bringing back their servants."

"King of the Underworld?" repeated little Shun, looking toward the powerful man, who stopped and looked down to meet his wide green-eyes.

"Innocent child, unaware of his death that is approaching, you may never understand what I am saying to you now, until you have prospered into a grown man. However, by the time you realize the meaning of my words, it will already be too late for I have taken over you."

He got on his feet. A face of confusion was betrayed toward the evil king.

"What do you want from me?"

The man lowered himself on one knee, staring into the eyes of the little boy that showed fear.

"There is nothing that you could do for me." He turned his gaze away. A devious smile curved his lips. "But, perhaps, there is something you can do for me after all. Though you may be small, and have a weak body, you will surely complete the task. After all, who would expect you to do the deed?"

The hilt of his blade was thrust toward his hands. Shun was hesitant to take it.

"There is a beautiful white rabbit there." He followed his pointed gaze. A small patch of green grass emerged from behind, unknown to him where it came from, but he saw the white rabbit of what the man was speaking about staring at them.

"Kill it for me," whispered the king. His breath was felt near his ear, sending chills down his spine. He violently shook his head and began to cry.

"I don't want to kill it!" he cried. The tears ran down his cheeks, unfazed by the king. He cocked his head, black hair spilling over his pale face, as he stared at the child crying, while calling for his brother's name.

"How about you to take me to it?" he suggest.

The boy sniffed and shook his head.

"I won't kill it, for your sake, but merely examine it, carefully."

He sniffed and rubbed his snot-filled nose. "You are lying."

The man smirked and rose on his feet. "I don't have the time to lie at the moment. My time here is limited." A hand was felt on top of his green hair, tensing as the man tapped his head softly. "Would you, _please_, allow me to see the pure white rabbit?" His hand lowered to cup his chin, raising it so their eyes could meet.

The malice that dripped from his lips scared Shun deeply. He knew that his words held no truth, but he couldn't deny that the man seemed sincere enough to fool him. The blade was kept secure in the man's hand. He knew what he needed to do and rubbed his nose.

"I want to hold the blade."

The man narrowed his eyes. Shun coiled his fists to restrain his fear as the man flipped the blade and handed the hilt toward his face.

"Take it."

His sweaty palms aimed for the leather-bound hilt. He grasped it steadily, and let out a startled gasp at the heavy weight it portrayed when the man let go of his hold. Weightless, and easy to control, was what he labeled the sword at first, but now that he has the chance to wield it he was quite amazed at the wielder for possessing such strength. He wished he had that strength to protect his brother, like he did to him, from this ill controlled place.

"Lead me to the rabbit."

Shun looked up confused, but regained his composure and stared at the empty room toward the patch of grass that the rabbit laid. Both hands secured around the hilt, he dragged the weapon across. He stopped when he realized the king was not following.

"Are you not going to go through the door?"

A brow was raised at his suggestion. The man chuckled and cocked his head toward the direction where a mysterious door appeared with a faded red doorknob. They could merely walk across the room, but the man insisted that they should enter through the door since the realm consisted of things being done properly unless they wish to be stuck here forever. He didn't object to the idea, but took his suggestion quickly. Anything to get away from the evil king whom laughed as if he understood of what his mind was pondering about.

Shun opened the door quickly. The weapon was quite heavier with one hand holding it.

They walked past the door. He heard a sound and turned his head. What he saw was another door, this time, with a lightly, faded red doorknob. He gulped and followed behind the king. A dreadful feeling was pulling at his stomach that had his throat dry and his fear increasing. A little voice was telling him to flee, but he had nowhere else to go, only to follow the path of where the door lay.

He opened the door and quickly met with another. The doorknob was carrying a bit of a brighter red. Each door he opened, the color kept increasing. Door after door, he didn't know when his fear would stop, until he met the final door of where the rabbit laid. Its doorknob carried a heavier color of red that it dripped down the keyhole and met the floor. He watched the color taint the black floor that he stepped on, inching near his toes, until he felt the wet substance color his feet.

Hesitantly, he reached for the door and twisted the knob. The door creaked when it opened as a light slipped through and displayed the white rabbit on the patch of green dew tufts. The king entered and ambled toward the animal. The light surrounding the innocent creature was fading as darkness crept in.

Shun dragged the weapon and set it down near his feet.

"What are you doing?" The question made the king stop in his tracks and face the boy. His blue-eyes glossed the evil intent of what his smirk portrayed. He pulled his red cape and covered the white rabbit.

"Let me demonstrate you a trick."

Shun shook his head.

"I don't want to see a trick."

The king chuckled and turned his gaze toward the creature hidden underneath his cape.

"It will be quite exhilarating." His eyes were set on him, slightly closed, as he smiled and leaned his head to a side. "I assure you." His hand aimed for the cape, something that Shun did not want him to do. Behind his trick, he knew that it would consist of a horrible sight that would leave him breathless. Yet, he did not shield his eyes away the moment the king's hand pulled the cape to reveal his magic trick. Blame it on his innocent curiosity.

Shun was not wrong when he pictured a horrible sight underneath that cape. In fact, he couldn't stop screaming when the cape revealed a dismembered body with the man's sword stabbed in the middle of Saori Kido's head.

It took awhile for the boys to wake him up, and when they did, their first reaction was to take a step back when Shun keeled over and threw up. Ikki was by his side, comforting his little brother. He touched his sweaty back and rubbed it. His words did nothing to stop Shun from crying as he threw up some more.

Another scream was heard outside their door. The group of boys turned toward the butler when he entered, drenched in blood, yelling for them to stay in their room until otherwise informed. His rapid voice could not be understood, only grabbing a few words that explained the scream from before. Ms. Saori had been injured during horse riding. The cause: a dead rabbit had magically emerged in her path and caused a series of events to occur.

The door came to a close as Shun shivered in his brother's arms and passed out.


	30. If the Act Was Played Differently

**Notes**: This is a strongly 'What if' based sketch if Alone was, at the beginning, possessed by Hades's influence. Instead of attacking Athena right away, he would have cunningly devised a plan to assure his victory over the land. His plan, of course, leads to a betrayal among friends.

* * *

**If the Act Was Played Differently**

"Why don't you join my army?"

The question still gripped his mind in a repetitive manner that had him question why he hadn't taken the offer. He shook his head and placed a hand near the side of his head. Those evil thoughts were suppressed and were forced to be kept hidden in the back of his mind where it never emerged again. His mind kept reeling it in, however, so he may ponder the question a bit longer.

"Let's change the world together you and I."

It affirmed his doubts that he could indeed avoid the need to fight his long-time friend and join his cause. However, the thought of leaving Sasha held him back. He gripped his head with both hands and determined to ignore the evil voices inside his mind. However, he was not strong enough to fight what his true intentions laid.

"Tenma?" Her soft voice had his senses on alert. He ran across the corridor, away from her sleeping chamber.

"Tenma?" Her plea of wanting to see him pained his heart deeply. He was reduced to be hiding in the shadows when all he wanted to do was greet his old friend in pure bliss of seeing her. Though, he was afraid of what he may do.

The voices couldn't stay quiet.

"I… I don't blame you for what had happened." She was getting near his destination. "I would have failed from killing Alone as well, but what purpose did he allow you to live and brought you to the living once again?" The pitch of her voice had risen, portraying her doubts of what her brother intended to do. The answer to her question was quite hard to voice that he covered his face with both hands and ignored her approaching steps.

"I don't blame you of what had happened to Yato and Yuzuriha."

She kept getting closer to him. He shook his head when she continued to comfort him with words he viewed as lies.

"Let's move past the pain and fight in their names."

He sobbed when he slithered toward the ground in defeat. She was behind him when he couldn't control his crying and aimed to touch his shoulder.

That is when he lost his sanity of being a Saint.

xx

Darkness crept from every corner. It was a sign of something horrid to happen, but the goddess of wisdom did not know what it could possibly be. She sat up in her stone-made bed, looking toward the fire that swayed violently to an unknown force.

Fear had begun to rise inside of her. She hadn't felt such malevolence since the days of her youth when she traveled with Kardia. But this feeling was far worse of that day when she had been captured and saw the Scorpion hurt. This fear was twisting her heart in a painful way that she gripped her chest in attempt to push away such daunt feeling from controlling her.

A tear ran down her cheek. She gasped and removed the wet substance from her face. Her slender fingers appeared gaunt, malnourished from the days she refused to eat when Tenma's tardiness to revive had begun to worry her. The thought of Asmita having killed him crossed her mind, but his unchanged ways of regarding her as a weak goddess proved that he did not meet him. She still needed to be sure and asked only for him to leave her with a cryptic message:

"I met not a soul in sight that carried such name only a traitor who was persecuted by evil thoughts."

The immediate thought that he referenced Tenma as the traitor had gloomed her mind. _Tenma, a traitor,_ she thought. It was an idea worth laughing at which caused her to shake her head at the unbelievable thought. Her childhood friend had protected her and her brother since the days of her youth. He even protected her now, though his mind was fragile from witnessing her brother's transformation to a vile king, and swore to bring the three friends together again. It was far from possible of believing he had betrayed her, but her mind kept playing with the idea, never leaving her a moment to rest from such fallacy.

Her eyes widen at the faint feel of a recognizable cosmos standing behind her door. It had brought her to her feet, lips spread wide when, at last, her friend had arrived. She had to confirm it was truly him and ran down the stone steps leading toward the door. It sprang opened to her haste of seeing him, turning her eyes toward every direction to find him.

"Tenma?" The cry of his name echoed against the walls.

He was nowhere in sight to her realization.

Her happiness evaporated to bewilderment. She could have sworn that she felt his cosmos near. Could it be her imagination was independently governing the reality? She had to get some rest before the Saints become worried that she wasn't fit to give a proper demand.

The feel of his cosmos burned again stopping her feet from heading into her chamber. She turned toward the detected spot of where he was near the end of the corridor. The torches on the wall were each lit, but only a couple had lost it flame, leaving the corridor dimmed. She took in a breath and followed the faintly lit path of where he was.

"Tenma?" She heard a shaky breath emit from his lips.

She crept closer to his spot. "I…I don't blame you for what had happened." Another step was taken to his dark residence. "I would have failed from killing Alone as well, but…" She looked toward the ground in distress. "…what purpose did he allow you to live and brought you to the living once again?" Her voice had risen to her doubts of her brother's plans of keeping Tenma alive. Alone should have taken the chance to kill him instead he let _him _go.

Tenma must surely blame himself for their deaths. She had to assure him that he was not the culprit of their deaths.

"I don't blame you for what had happened to Yato and Yuzuriha." She was close enough to see his head shake to her words as if she told him lies.

"Let's move past the pain and fight in their names." It broke her heart when he covered his face and sobbed. Her hand reached to touch his shoulder, anything to comfort him in the dire moment he was placed in. The contact of her flesh touching his was enough to place a smile on her face that he was, indeed, fact real.

"Tenma," she called his name in lovely manner, attracting his teary, wine eyes. She aimed to touch his face when her hand hesitated to touch his cheek. She couldn't comprehend the pain she was feeling as if her heart broke into two, and was bleeding internally. A shaky breath was let out followed by a couple steps back.

Her eyes were growing heavy. The floor received her tired body. Groggily, she looked toward him, who stood above her with a harden fist tainted with blood. It dripped down his knuckles to her face, twitching her head when the blood had made contact with her skin. There was no denying that the blood belonged to her.

Her eyes were slightly opened.

She examined his wine eyes to find that they appeared dead. A sob slithered out at the failure to recognize that Tenma was deeply inflicted with pain of not protecting both his comrades and Alone.

A cruel smile took his features.

"Peace will now govern the world. After all, this is what you both wanted in the end, was it not?" A tear landed on her cheek. "Don't worry. Alone will be next, and soon the three of us will be together again."

He lowered his bloody fist. He had truly lost his mind, and there was nothing that she could to do to stop him.

"Athena!" The cry of her name was strongly heard when an arrow of light flew past her dimly lit eyes.

It was already too late. Tenma had left to Alone's side in whisk of dark and red, a portal made no doubt by her brother.

A final breath was taken and the goddess closed her eyes.


	31. Burden

**Notes: **Thank you for the reviews. I always appreciate them.

**Flipflopfloop** – Some of my older stories are not on the site anymore mostly because I didn't like how I wrote the story or I totally directed the story onto a different path, away from the plot. Another reason is I lost interest in the story itself. So, that's why I decided to delete them.

* * *

**Burden**

There were some things that Sui could do nothing about, and one of those unstoppable things was watching his older brother, Kagaho, fight to gain some bags of silver to survive. His burden of being rather dependent on his brother put a strain in their relationship. They hardly spoke; hardly had the time to spend with each other when Kagaho was too busy getting in fights. Sui knew his brother actions were entirely his fault for being so overly-dependent on him.

It all started when he spoke of a silly dream that _he _purposed one day to experience with his brother – a dream to walk under the sunlight, far away from the corruption their hometown held. He should have kept his mouth shut to save himself from watching his brother coming home with torn knuckles and a bloody lip.

He could still stop Kagaho from fighting. All he had to say was two words and that was it. But his stubbornness to say, "No more" was lodged between his throat and lips that he gaped at his older brother with wide eyes. By the time he gained some amount of courage, it was already too late as his brother sprang from his seat and bolted out the door, presumably heading toward his next battle.

His guilt didn't leave him in peace. And it didn't help his guilty conscious that he cradled a bloody cloth on his lap. He gripped it with both hands, twisting it absentmindedly, and listened to the blood drops hit their wooden floor.

His eyes strayed toward the wooden door, waiting for his brother to come home at night.

xx

They were at it again.

Two teenagers, Dai, the leader, and Hiro, his partner, never seem to leave him alone. Dai with his dark, short-hair and black eyes wore a loose blouse and breeches, accompanied with brown shoes. His partner, Hiro, had the same length of hair as his leader, except it was red and messy. His green eyes sparked with mischievous thoughts. He crossed his arms against his white tunic and looked at Sui with his infamous smile.

All he wanted was to walk around town and enjoy the breeze against his skin, but every single time, they would appear, poking a dirty fingernail harshly against his chest. He wanted them to stop; wanted to have the strength to beat them up. But he couldn't deny that he was nothing like his older brother, who was strong and viscous when it came to battles. He could never be like him when he was viewed as the weakly, getting pushed over by bullies. Kagaho would never stand for this. He would fight back and demand respect. That is why he didn't understand what motivated him to pull back his fist and punch Dai in the face.

At first, euphoria hit him at full blast at overriding his fear, but when it finally registered that he had punched a boy stronger than him, he was terrified of the outcome. He slid closer to the wall behind him, trying to gain much disparity from the teenager. He was about to run when his partner grabbed him by the collar and tossed him to the ground. He landed on his rear and gradually met their devious eyes. A snicker escaped Dai's lips.

"Good shot, kid." He rubbed his bloody nose. Disgust was evident on his features when he looked at it. "You'll pay for that."

The dark-haired teenager grabbed him by the shirt and stood him up on his feet. He swayed back when his bully let him go. The moment he gained control of his legs and firmly stood up, he watched as the impending fist went directly to his abdomen. The impact of his punch left him struggling to breath. He cradled his stomach, his back hunched to his movement. He didn't have the time to avoid the second punch aimed for his jaw.

His body hit the ground. He coughed and began to vomit his morning breakfast. Embarrassed by the sight, he covered his face, hearing the teenagers laugh and kick at his legs, anything to get a reaction from him. He wanted them to stop; wanted them to leave him alone so he may hide in shame. And as if the gods had answered his prayers, he heard neither laugh nor felt their shoes kick his legs. Sui turned toward his bullies and watched as both boys were pulled by the collar of their shirts, trembling at the malicious expression Kagaho carried.

He wiped the vomit from his mouth and tried to stand on his wobbly legs. One hand cradled his stomach, the other reaching for his brother to stop him from doing the appropriate deed that an older brother should do: protect their sibling. He never had the chance to stop him when he watched as both boys were hurled toward the ground.

Hiro had hit his head against the cement, his vision in a daze. The other, the one Sui had punched, was straddled by his brother and was gripped by the throat. Kagaho did not waste a moment to deliver a blow to Dai's face. Punch after punch, he did not stop, not even when his overused knuckles began to bleed. He continued with a smile, morbidly fascinated by the way the teenager's nose cracked under the pressure of his incoming fist and watched as the blood mar his pale flesh.

"Kagaho, stop!"

His plea went ignored. He watched as Hiro lifted himself up and knocked Kagaho's body to the ground. His brother blocked his face from the partner's sloppy hits. Hiro looked insane with an eyebrow shot upward in satisfaction of being able to punch his older brother.

"Leave him alone!"

Sui attempted to push Hiro off his brother's stomach, but the teenager turned and knocked him over. He looked back and watched his brother's eyes narrowed at the teenager above him. Taking Hiro's distraction, he punched him hard across the cheek, watching as the blood was forced out of his lips. Immediately, he straddled Hiro's torso and began to pound his face, while ignoring the cries the redhead emitted.

Sui couldn't bear it any longer and shouted, "Stop!"

That was all it took for Kagaho to slide off the redhead's torso and turn to meet his brother's teary eyes. Without portraying any concern toward the duo's moaning, he approached his brother and helped him on his feet. He led him away from the alley, never looking back to see a man approach the batter duo and accuse his brother of being a monster. It pained his heart hearing the people judge his brother for his actions to protect him. He never wanted his older brother to interfere with his problematic issues, but Kagaho always knew when he was in danger.

"Are you alright?"

He met his eyes; a trace of concern was caught in his dark orbs. He appeared exhausted from his fight, noticing a trail of blood coming from the left side of his eye. It seemed the redhead had managed to hit his brother. His stomach churned at the sight, turning his eyes away to look toward the solid ground.

"I'm fine."

His older brother never suspected the turmoil he was experiencing.


End file.
